Friday, June 21, 2013

Mrs. Epsteen

I have written about many things on this blog.
Some good like my awesome kids or my amazing wife.
Some bad like ambushed paddingtons.
Some ugly like crapping my pants.
Well this topic is definitely going to fall somewhere in the bad and ugly range.
A bugly.
I have never spoken about her – and after reading about her – you might think I should have left her buried in the past with some other antics that I have not shared with all of you wonderful people that visit Confessions of a Dumb, White Guy.
Her name was Mrs. Epsteen and she has left a unsavory impression on more than a few people in the small number of years that she was out and about.
Here is a picture of the infamous Mrs. Epsteen showing off her hardbody in the glorious waters of the Pacific Ocean with one of her admirers:

Yes you are quite sharp if you noticed that the guy wearing what could be mistaken for a dark brown speedo looks a lot like me because that is me, and that is me being Mrs. Epsteen. 

If you are familiar with the movie The Silence of The Lambs then hopefully you remember the scene in which the serial killer – Buffalo Bill – does a little dance after he tucks his junk between his legs so he looks like he has a va-jay-jay. Well I decided to occasionally incorporate this dance into my drunken adventures during my collegiate years and eventually she became known as Mrs. Epsteen. I wish I could tell you what inspired the name or why she happened to be married or why the heck I would even do this in front of friends and strangers but I can't because I don't remember. The only thing I can tell you with the utmost certainty is that when I decided to transform into Mrs. Epsteen there was a tree stump in the Louisiana swamp with a higher IQ than yours truly.

She only appeared occasionally and usually late, late in the evening when I am sure my blood alcohol content resembled a horrible grade point average. Someone would talk me into it. And by someone I mean me. Then the next thing you know there are people running in the other direction as quickly as possible and looking as confused as a hungry baby in a topless bar as they could not quite comprehend what they just saw. I am sure there were a lot of WTFs?!?! uttered and then a search for the nearest eye-wash station. Eventually sober judgement and common sense prevailed so Mrs. Epsteen was retired. Turns out looking like an inebriated, moronic eunuch with superfluous fur was not a great way to make a first impression with anyone. 

Mrs. Epsteen also appeared before the Internet was the Internet as we know it today so thank the fat bassets that there is not too much evidence of me being her out there. I do know there are a few pictures of Mrs. Epsteen tucked away - an extremely poor choice of words - so I have to be a nice guy for the rest of my days or another photo of her might surface and we certainly do not need that. 

So there you go. Another skeleton from my closet brought out into the light, and boy was it an ugly one. Enjoy your retirement Mrs. Epsteen and don't ever come out of it. 

I will persevere. I will keep moving forward. I will be the stream. 

Friday, June 14, 2013

It Hurts When IP

How's that for a title?
Any guesses on what I am writing about today?
Chlamydia? Nope.
Stock tips for the International Paper Company (IP)? Hell no.
Intellectual Property? Definitely not.
Best WiFi Names ever? Ding. Ding. Ding. We have a winner.
The Internet is full of crazy stuff. Actually based upon my extensive research, it is full of lies, cats, idiots and crap.

It also has some pretty funny WiFi names.

1. Does it burn too?

2. All the girls say I am pretty fly 

3. You're vs. Your 

5. Hi Mom!!

6. Spoiler alert. Hope you watched the "The Sixth Sense."

7. Sex police 

 8. Damn Internet.

9. Darn you Caitlin!!

10. Bruce Wayne is going to be so mad.

And Happy Father's Day to all you magnificent dads out there.

I will persevere. I will be the stream. I will keep moving forward.

Friday, June 07, 2013

Put Your Penis Away

Do I have your attention?
It has taken more than 40 years but I think I might have found my calling in life. It is to make sure the penis remains fully clothed in the sink/grooming area of the men's locker room at gyms.

I don't know what the technical term is for the sink/grooming area but it is the place that looks like the above picture and it is separate from the locker room where you change your clothes and what not. So the locker room is fine if you want to hang out with your wang out but once you start heading towards those sinks it is time to wrap up.

Why has this become my calling?

Well I recently saw things that cannot be unseen, and being the humanitarian that I am I don't want another dude to have to experience the same pain and suffering I endured.

I recently wrote a note on Facebook to a friend of mine whose family owns the gym where I get work out: Please install eye wash stations at Idaho Athletic Club so I can try and wash away the trauma my eyeballs just endured this morning in the men's locker room. I really did not need to see the older gentleman who has not skipped many meals shaving while he is completely naked. Or at least give me a free counseling session so I can talk to someone about the nightmares I am going to have. Have a nice day.

After reaching out to my friend, I heard from him and several others about some of the other naked hijinks that go on in the sink/grooming area. I guess some dudes like to blow dry their pubes or do sit-ups or manscape their private parts.

Maybe I am strange but I go to the gym to work out and that is about it. I am not there to showcase my dong like I am competing on everyone'e least favorite reality show "Meet My Penis."

When I come to the sink to wash my hands after going to the bathroom I don't want to wash my ocular cavities as well because someone is drying their chesticles with an Asian silk hand fan in their birthday suit. So for the love of husky hounds, your penis ... put it away.

Dudes are weird.

Thank you for listening.

I will persevere. I will keep moving forward. I will be the stream.