Hi everyone,Welcome to The Top 50!

First o! -- thank you for signing up for The Institute for Global Happiness newsletter. The 1000 Awesome Things blog has been a huge part of my life for the past number of years and I can’t tell you how grateful and honored I am to talk to you every day. It’s definitely a lot more fun talking about awesome things with friends.

It seems like forever ago now but I started writing 1000 Awesome Things back on June 20, 2008 during a pretty dark period in my life. I lived in a dark and empty house in the suburbs of Toronto and was in a marriage heading the wrong direction with a best friend battling major depres-sion. One night I tried cheering myself up by searching for “How to start a blog” and twenty minutes later 1000awe-somethings.com was born through the free blogger software over at Wordpress.com.

I wrote the first post as #1000 Broccoflower – the strange, mutant hybrid of nature’s most hideous vegetables – and I think that may potentially qualify as the most terrible way to launch a blog ever. I mean, who’s heard of broccoflower? And of the few folks that do, who thinks it’s awesome? But it made me laugh to myself so I pressed ‘Publish’ and went to bed. When I woke up the next morning I found that just overnight the blog had collected a whopping… zero hits!

Well, I figured deleting the first post would be cheating so I left it hanging there over the weekend before returning on Monday with #999 That last, crumby triangle in a bag of potato chips. The next couple nights I wrote about grass stains (#998) and locking people out of the car and pretend-ing to drive away (#997) and within a week I started keep-ing scraps of old receipts and napkins by my computer and bedside table and told friends that I was collecting any free, simple, universal pleasures they came across in their day.

I found myself loving the process of writing and hitting ‘Publish’ and seeing something free and live and out there… just hanging around the Internet. When I had about five awesome things up a week later – and still no hits other than my mom and my dad -- I sent the email below to everyone I knew:

----- Original Message -----From: Neil Pasricha To: Neil PasrichaSent: Wed Jun 25 20:01:28 2008Subject: Honest to blog

Dear everyone I know,

Hope life is treating you well. It’s getting hot here in To-ronto and I’m starting to enjoy the summer.

Sorry for the mass email, but I wanted to let you know that I launched a blog. I’d love for you to check it out at http://www.1000awesomethings.com and let me know what you think. Any feedback, suggestions, comments, or ideas are JUHDW�DV�,�WU\�WR�JHW�LW�RҬ�WKH�JURXQG��,I�\RX�NQRZ�DQ\�ZD\V�

I can let people know about it, I’d love that too. If you aren’t the blog-reading type, don’t know what a blog is, or have no idea who I am, sorry to bother you.

Thanks for reading everyone,

Neil

--Neil’s blog: http://www.1000awesomethings. com

And that was it! In a day or two that email gave me about a thousand hits and then I started getting maybe a few dozen hits a day. From there it just grew and grew and grew…

Honestly, when I look back at broccoflower today I can’t be-lieve what’s happened with the blog and book. And I mean, a lot has changed for me personally: my wife and I split up, my friend Chris sadly passed away, and I moved into a tiny apartment in the city. But lots has stayed the same too -- I still work the same o"ce job, still have a sink full of dirty dishes, and still come home from work every night and write one awesome thing for tomorrow.

As I reread the list of the fifty most popular posts there are lots of surprises. Look at #2 for example: “Doing something half-assed at the last minute and getting away with it.” I wrote it on one of those nights where I got home late after going out with friends and completely forgot to update the blog beforehand. So in a bleary-eyed state at just around midnight I found a picture of a cute dog and literally half-assed it myself. Well, the post went viral on Digg.com and

over 100,000 hits came in out of nowhere! A similar viral e!ect on social networking happened with “Ordering o! the menu at fast food restaurants” and “Old classic board games.”

So The Top 50 is a fun list, a strange list, and a very dif-ferent list than I think I ever would have suspected. None of the entries in here are in either The Book of Awesome nor The Book of (Even More) Awesome – because for some reason editors frown upon big fat asses, blowing your nose in the shower, or yellow teeth. But today you’re the proud recipient of these disgusting gems!

What a year it’s been, what a few years it’s been, and what special fun it is to do all of this together with you. I hope you like The Top 50 and I hope you like The Institute for Global Happiness. I hope, I hope, I hope, I hope, I hope.

Lots of love from snowy Canada and have a very awesome day,

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50. Feeling it in your bones#340Ã 24,503 Hits

Born and blasted into the world you’re a baby brain with wide eyes, chubby legs, and cloudy thoughts. Mom lifts you and picks you, eyes open and close, and fogs rise and set-tle. Tears stream and faces scream as your swirling brain twists and turns into thoughts…

Nothing makes sense till it does.

Nothing feels right till it does.

Chalk raps on blackboards beside times tables, language stirs sounds into sentences, and stories send you flying into faraway worlds. Book reports and homework inspections, chemistry labs and biology dissec-tions, all fill your spinning brain with numbers and theories and thoughts…

Nothing makes sense till it does.

Nothing feels right till it does.

Teenage sleepovers and late night walks, summertime camps and sup-pertime talks, keep expanding your mind and your understanding of the world. First kisses and first touches, first fights and first blushes, all fill your heart with dreams, expand your brain’s book shelf, and get you think-ing about a life below the surface of yourself.

Nothing makes sense till it does.

Nothing feels right till it does.

But … sometimes challenging lec-tures or scattering friends, confusing debates without exams at the end, can frighten your mind and scare dreams away, can frighten your life and trade tomorrows for todays. Family pres-sures and social graces, broken prom-ises from trusted faces, could sudden-ly swirl you upside down and scatter your mind or dim your heart…

When nothing makes sense …

… … When nothing feels right …

… … … … When it gets scary to realize…

… … … … … … There are no in-structions in life…

That’s when it’s time to stop, it’s time to think, it’s time to pause, it’s time to blink. When you hit the end of the year open your eyes and look behind you. When you hit the end of the year open your eyes and look inside you.

Because today you’re right here …

… … And there’s so far to go …

… … … … And today there’s still fear …

… … … … … … But there’s only one way to know …

Feel it in your bones, feel it in your bones, feel it in your bones.

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Feel your bones to move forward, feel your bones to move on, feel your bones to forget, feel your bones to carry on… just feel your bones to say you’re sorry, feel your bones to show you care, feel your bones to choose tomorrow, and feel those bones to get you there.

Because when your world sorts itself out, when your head moves aside, when your heart thumps up front, when that blood bubbles inside, well that’s when you know, that’s when you see, that’s when you finally be-come … what you were meant to be.

So whatever you’re thinking about today …. stop trying to choose and choose. Whatever you’re searching for today … just look inside for clues. Yes, whatever you’re thinking about … just stop and feel instead. Cause when you feel it in your bones you can smile and forget your head.

Nothing makes sense till it does.

Nothing feels right till it does.

Nothing makes sense till you feel it.

Nothing feels right till you know.

AWESOME!

49. When a gift receipt is al-ready in the box

#866Ã 26,274 Hits

ALF was a great TV show.

But let’s be honest, you may not want to own the wise-cracking, cat-eating alien’s first three seasons on DVD.

So if you land ALF, or a fondue kit, or a shot glass chess set, or a gelato mak-er, or a sweater that doesn’t fit you, or the Wheel of Fortune board game, then you may find yourself saying “Oh thank you, it’s just what I always wanted,” when you’re actually think-ing “Oh thank you, it’s just what I never wanted.”

That’s why it’s great when you see the gift receipt just laying in the box after you pull out the gift. You avoid the awkward “It’s okay if you don’t like it” (No, no, I do), “I wasn’t sure if it was something you wanted” (No, no, it is), “They have it in black too if you don’t like green” (No, no, I like green), or “I can give you the receipt if you don’t like it” (No, no, I like it) conversations.

Yes, when the gift receipt is already in the box, there are no questions asked, no questions answered. It’s just sitting there, a secret wink, a private head-nod, a quiet understanding between you and the very kind, very generous, very thoughtful person who gave you the present.

AWESOME!

48. When dreams come true#526Ã 26,691 Hits

I was a bad baby.

From the time I was zero minutes old

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I was wide-eyed, wide-awake, crying and cranky. Bedtime meant nothing and my parents say I’d often stand in my crib staring around the room rat-tling the bars all night.

Sleeplessness stuck as the years rolled on and I’d lie in the dark quiet house staring at the ceil-ing with my eyes bugged open for hours. Eventually I discovered books and started squint-ing through thick Coke-bottle glasses — lips softly mov-ing, fingers slowly dragging — getting pulled into new worlds and new lives. Dim lights cast dark shadows by my dresser as I followed Frank and Joe to Pirate’s Cove or cracked cases with Encyclopedia Brown.

When I went to high school I tried to sleep in, I practiced even, but it just wouldn’t take. And since nobody was

crazy enough to date me, I spent most of my evenings nose deep

in musty yellow paperbacks tattered from the library, creasy finger-dents in the backs, big cracks in the

spine.

These days my fingers can still feel the crin-kly color-faded pages of

garage sale Archie comics. I can still smell the musty kid’s section of the dim li-brary basement. My brain still reels with flashbulb-popping memories of flipping pages with mom before bed.

I think I’ve loved books since I was a crib-rattling baby. I love squeez-ing them in suitcase pockets, leaving them teetering on toilets, and curling

up with them under blankets on wet rainy days.

Today The Book of Awesome hits shelves around the United States. Next week it’s coming to Canada. And soon it’s coming to more coun-tries around the world.

I feel tremendously lucky and hon-ored that a chance to chat with y’all about awesome things rose out of such di"cult times in my personal life. Your comments, suggestions, and support means so much to me and I sincerely hope you like the book.

And maybe this one’s for yourself, maybe it’s a gift for Grandma, or maybe it’s for a little kid with thick glasses to read under the covers to-night.

AWESOME!

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47. Staying up so late that ev-erything becomes funny

#449Ã 26,699 Hits

Midnight is long gone.

Maybe you’re crowded around a kitchen table pasting construc-tion paper onto poster board, squirreled into sleeping bags on a cold basement floor, or drinking cold co!ee and leaning over lap-tops before tomor-row’s big deadline.

Either way, it’s time to face facts: you’re up way too late.

Your eyes burn a bit, your head spaces out, random arms or legs starts throbbing, and maybe your scalp gets really, really, really, really itchy. Point is, you’ve ignored your body’s Go to Sleep signals for hours so now you’re hunched over a walk-ing stick squinting deep into the

foggy darkness of four, five, six in the morning.

The good news is your brain has developed just the system to charge you up with extra juice and help you

power through. Yes, we’re talking about massively lowered Standards of Hilarity which help make everything funny. Someone steps

on Styrofoam Jupiter, kicks a can of Coke onto the pizza, or accidentally deletes the Powerpoint slides, and suddenly ev-eryone looks up at each other with tired raccoon eyes and… just starts cracking up.

Late night laughing is a beautiful moment be-

cause we’re letting ourselves stand up and step back from whatever’s keeping us up. Gone are the stresses of the group project, hanging dread of the deadline, and tensions tying us together. Now the di!erences dis-

solve and we realize we’re all part of the same Bleary Eyed Giggling clan — telling bad jokes, laughing till it hurts, and smiling till sunrise.

AWESOME!

46. Nailing that perfect move in a board game

#515Ã 28,131 Hits

I’m terrible at board games.

Look at me: trying to roll doubles to bust outta jail, putting down bill or door on a no-word score, and franti-cally stabbing my pencil at my scrib-bly drawing over and over while the hourglass sand drips down. You see, this why I love those rare moments when even I manage to nail a perfect board game move:

10. When someone challenges a word you made up in Scrabble and it ends up being a real word. Thanks for your giant, nonsensical vocabulary, Scrab-ble Dictionary. We’ll take op, pe, or xi to the bank any day.

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9. Eating the last marble in Hungry, Hungry Hippos. When the game begins it’s a gobble, gobble, give mom a headache feeding frenzy. But when there’s only one white marble spin-ning around everything turns into goosebump-popping, eyebrow-fur-rowing strategy and wit. Make your move and calmly splash back into the river.

8. Suddenly noticing you got a surprise diagonal in Connect Four. When you realize you won the game make sure you throw your nose in the air, give a slow and evil smile, and calmly pet your cat. This was your plan all along.

7. Becoming a doctor in LIFE. When you land on the top salary spot you’re laughing for the rest of the game. Just make sure your station wagon doesn’t topple o! the side the moun-tain spilling your pink and blue kids everywhere.

6. When your partner figures out that bumpy lump of purple clay you’re molding in Cranium is actually a cheeseburger. Good work, Michelan-gelo.

5. Guessing someone’s Mastermind combination in three tries. Even though it’s usually a fluke make sure

you take a minute to stare absently at the ping-pong table and daydream about life as a professional code-

breaker.

4. Actually using the horse to kill o! a major player in Chess. That legless knight never seems very powerful until the moment you realize he’s in trampling distance of a big kill. Make sure you use the piece to purposefully whack your opponent across the room and, for extra fun, let out an obnox-ious whinny.

3. Using the stock answer for a Trivial

Pursuit category and getting the pie piece. Thanks for saving the day Carl Lewis, Marlon Brando, or nitrogen.

2. Coming up with a lie so good in Balderdash that when they’re all read out you almost believe your own definition is the real one. You’re at the top of your game so enjoy the moment and get ready to reel in some suckers.

1. Rolling double-sixes in Monopoly and landing between the other guy’s Park Place and Boardwalk hotels. Good move skipping the five-star joints in favor of crashing on Baltic Avenue. The kids didn’t need a swim-ming pool or HBO anyway.

People, you know and I know it: these Perfect Board Game Moments can change the game and knock your op-ponent straight outta the living room. They’re beautiful little breaks in the middle of tense moments that fill family night with a great big shot of

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AWESOME!

45. Ducks#806Ã 28,552 Hits

Because they can walk, fly, and swim.

Ducks 3, humans 2.

AWESOME!

44. When the only other person going up in the el-evator is going to the same floor as you

#894Ã 28,731 Hits

You know how it is: you walk into the elevator, you press your button, and just as the door is about to fully close, a hand appears out of nowhere and pulls it back open. Then a stranger walks in and presses the same but-ton you already pressed, going to the same floor you were already going. Now that’s luck, because after that brief ‘Are they following me?’ vibe passes, you get to zoom up the shaft

at breakneck speed on a no-nonsense express ride to the top.

AWESOME!

43. Walking around with a black eye

#695Ã 28,753 Hits

Last year I went to play badminton with my friend Jon.

Yes, it turned out he was a member of the local

racket (hey-ohhhhh!) and was in the business of casually inviting friends to join him for a night as his Doubles Partner.

Now badminton, like all sports, was completely foreign to me so I had a pile of excuses ready when he asked including: “I don’t have a racquet”, “I don’t have a ball”, “I don’t know how to play”, and finally my trusty failsafe “No.”

But Jon would have none of it.

“Come on, I’ll pick you up and drop you o!. You can use my extra equip-ment and I’ll bring a bottle of water for you. Plus, the guys there are really easy going and casual. You’ll have a great time. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

There was a bit of a Mexican stando! as we sized each other up, squinted a bit, and jutted our chins out, but eventually I sucked it up, threw on some sweatpants, and went along for the ride.

Turns out Jon was a liar.

I entered the dimly lit high-school gymnasium to the sight of high-flying Asian superstars spiking the birdie in all directions. Zipping and zooming across the court, they leapt three, four, five feet o! the ground, whacking the bird in high-stakes, high-drama back and forth exchang-es.

“Oh, it’s not as tough as it looks,”

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Jon said to my pale and worried face. “And don’t worry — no one cares how good you are. They just want to get some exercise.”

I stared at Jon with a worried glance, but eventually unpeeled my racquet, yanked up my tube socks, shivered a few times, and stepped timidly onto the court, where I proceeded to im-mediately get beaned in the eye by a well-smacked birdie. People, I’m telling you straight up: I got shuttle-cocked.

It happened quick and I dropped my racquet stunned, cupping my eye with both hands and sucking air in loudly like a wheezy Shop-Vac. Throbbing, swelling, bruising fast, I was experiencing the birth of my first-ever black eye.

Thick and dark, purple and navy blue, I sported the big fat shiner for the next week at work. And it felt great, it felt liberating, it felt like I was free — because for once I wasn’t

a wimp. No, for a moment I shed my thin, fragile shell and motored around town as a fighting thug with an attitude problem. The black eye screamed “Don’t mess with me”, “Don’t make me do it again”, and “You should see the other guy.”

Now, don’t get me wrong: it’s not great to get nailed in the face. Eyes are delicate little peeled grapes which we don’t want squash balls, door corners, or accelerating fists smack-ing into. All I’m saying is that if it happens and everything works out fine, then just enjoy that week of walking around with a black eye, tough guy.

AWESOME!

42. When you cut-o! your disgusting big toenail

#855Ã 28,821 Hits

Big toes are tough.

Chances are good that Big Digit is

holding onto the largest nail you’ve got. And yeah, chopping it o! can be a tough job, but then again — if you didn’t do it once in a while you’d pop holes in your socks and end up with scraggly Hobbit Feet all the time, complete with dirty, jagged Forest Toenails.

That’s why it’s so satisfying to saw that big toenail right o!.

Now, there are a few di!erent ways to get

the job done:

• The Big Clip. My brother-in-law Dee used

to pull out this fancy salon kit he had which contained a Jumbo Nail Clipper. Have you

seen once of these things? They’re enormous and well-suited to the job of Big Toenail Cutter O!er. Clip, clip, you’re done. And you can use it to trim the hedges afterwards.• Temporary Fang Nail. This is where you clip both the left and right sides

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of the nail first, and then end up with a temporary sharp and jagged fang nail just sticking up like a dagger. It’s pretty funny, but not safe around chil-dren or small animals. Let’s be smart and chop safe out there, folks.

• The Slow And Steady. This is the classic. Time to pull out that old, rusty nail clipper somebody bought from the dollar store fifteen years ago and set your foot on the bathroom counter, a sunny patch of grass out-side, or on yesterday’s newspaper. You have to scrunch your eyebrows, and then slowly inch your way across the nail, bit by bit by bit by bit, almost peeling it o!. Optional here is using a nail file to scrape out the Residual Toe Cheese.

When you’re done, you end up with a magnificently disgusting Giant Dirty Shard of Big Toenail. And yeah, I know it’s gross, and I know you’ll toss it in the garbage soon, but you can’t tell me that for one beautiful moment you just look at it and think

AWESOME!

41. Not getting a hangover when you were expecting to get one

#861Ã 30,125 Hits

Don’t ask me how this happens. Sometimes it just happens.

AWESOME!

40. Proper urinal etiquette#555Ã 30,131 Hits

Just look at us.

We blast rocketships into outer space, talk to people across the plan-et in seconds, and swallow little pills to take away our headaches.

Yet despite these gi-ant leaps forward one thing’s still pretty primal around the world. Ladies, it ain’t pretty, but most guys unzip and drip into

a dirty wall toilet while standing next to a bunch of other dudes.

Thankfully there’s some unspoken urinal etiquette to help answer the call of nature with class:

1. Respect The Bu!er. The goal is to leave as much space as possible be-tween yourself and fellow urinators. Take the corners first, take the middle last, and when it’s tight out there use the stall or come back later. Elbow contact should be avoided at all costs.

2. High Shhh Alert. Talking is frowned upon especially in the mall, workplace, or everywhere. This ain’t

no co!ee shop, people. Save that for the sinks.

3. Temporary Food Ban. There’s some-thing wrong with the guy who leaves a sloshy bottle of beer or a half-unwrapped

cheeseburger on top of the uri-

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nal while he takes care of business. The mental combination of food plus bathroom is far too intense and must be avoided at all costs.

4. Fart ‘em if you got ‘em. I think we know why.

5. No middles, no problem. Picking the middle from an empty bank of three urinals is considered a cardinal sin of the highest order. This terrible o!ense upsets the natural order of the men’s room.

6. My, What a Nice Wall. Eye contact is forbid-den so keep staring down that brick wall in front of you. If there’s a poster hanging above the urinal, it’s guaranteed that every word will be read at least three times. Some people may even

choose their urinal based on how good the poster looks. This is allowed assuming all other rules are followed first.

Phew!

Okay ladies, thanks for putting up with us here. Yes, the men’s room is a nasty, dirty, filthy world. It ain’t pret-

ty and it never will be. But it’s part of our daily lives so let’s

all help keep it classy and keep it clean by respecting the codes, respecting the creed, and always observing proper urinal etiquette.

AWESOME!

39. Getting piggy-backed anywhere

#880Ã 30,155 Hits

This ancient and mystical mode of transportation deserves big ups for

big reasons. Piggy-backing makes you happy in so many ways:

1. Give yourself a break. Piggy-back-ing about town is a relaxing way to get around. You just focus on holding on and not strangling the piggy-back-er and you’re golden. It’s quite relax-ing, really.

2. See the world. Piggy-backing is all about extra visibility and fresh perspectives. Sitting up high piggy-style is good for the back row of a crowded concert or for a kid trying to get a better view of the fireworks show. Yes, piggy-backing shoots you up where the air is thin, the world is small, and the bald spots swim around you like shiny coins at the bottom of a water fountain. The world is new again.

3. You’ve been shot by Cupid. Yes, ac-cording to ads for online dating, jeans, or wedding rings, there aren’t many things that scream true love more than piggy-back rides. Makes sense, too. Giving someone a piggy-back is a tough slog and not the kind of trans-portation perk you’d casually o!er to

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a first date or o"ce coworker. There-fore, if you’re piggy-backing, you’re in love.

4. You just got married in South Ko-rea. Believe it, because according to our egghead pals at Wikipedia, after a South Korean wedding the groom often gives a piggy-back ride to his mother and then his bride, symbol-izing his acceptance of his obligations to both. This tradition was possibly invented by banquet halls tired of sweeping up rice and confetti at two in the morning. But either way, con-grats on just getting married in South Korea.

So let’s get down with the carry-around.

Jumping on someone’s back and be-ing lugged around town is a sweet deal. If you’re lucky enough to score a piggy-lift somewhere, I say wear a big smile, try and return the favor the next time, and most of all, don’t for-get to thank your little piggy.

AWESOME!

38. Bad school photo trends#379Ã 32,212 Hits

Everybody’s got a classic.

Buried in the basement, brass-framed in the family room, you’ve got a dusty 8#10 gem of a bad school photo fea-turing a bad school photo trend:

• That laser background. Remember when the studio hired an acid junkie to paint that pink and blue laser background for a couple years? There you were buck-tooth smiling in front of the light bright abyss. Kids, this is what we thought the future looked like.

• Old school trendy hairstyle. Wheth-er you got the Nike swoosh carved in the back of your buzz cut, rocked a mushroom with a middle part, or had a wispy rat tail down to your shoul-ders, the point is you were at on top of the sixth grade social circle. And

who knows: maybe crimped bangs, sideburn steps, or glittery headbands will come back one day. They could be huge.

• Forgot it was photo day. This is the kid with the sideways bedhead, black eye from a playground dust up, or simply a thin fraying T-shirt with a classy ketchup stain crusted across the collar.

• Posing with props. In addition to teddy bears or keyboards, there was always the picture of the new grad smiling a big gummy smile holding a rolled-up diploma beside their head like a freshly caught trout. In case you couldn’t tell by the black robe, square paper hat, or encyclopedia bookcase background, someone just got their last biology credit.

• Braces smiles. You could always tell who had braces because their smile was an awkwardly forced, big-dim-pled, tight-lipped beauty. Personally, I was always jealous of these kids since

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their physical deformity was easier to hide than a bumpy forehead full of bright red zits or a set of thick, Coke-bottle glasses. Hypothetically, I mean.

• Too dressed up for photo day photo. This is the boy who’s mom dressed him up with a brand new haircut, classy sweater vest, and crisp red bowtie. Or it’s the girl with perfectly braided hair, a frilly pink dress, and knee high socks. These pictures are especially hilarious when the kid looks really angry or accidentally blinks.

Yes, there’s something sweet about pulling out old school photos and sharing a laugh with the you of yes-terday. Because between those chubby cheeks, side ponytails, and low hair-lines is a blurry, faded version of the person you are today… in a tiny split-second moment of growing up…

AWESOME!

37. When you’re drowning and then a dolphin comes to your rescue

#812Ã 32,718 Hits

And suddenly you’re just hanging onto its back with your arms tucked firmly under its bottle nose, your face salty and stinging, your hair matted across your ears, as you’re whisked safely across the ocean on the ride of your life.

AWESOME!

36. Flipping through the en-tire bank of posters at the mall when you need to kill time

#901Ã 36,241 Hits

Have you ever needed to just kill some time at the mall?

Say your girlfriend’s doing rounds at La Senza, your parent’s called and said they’d be late picking you up, or the friend you’re waiting for is mop-ping floors at the food court to finish

up their shift.

Well, that’s when flipping through the entire bank of posters at the back of the music store comes in handy.

Because seriously, there’s about fifty posters there, too. If you take your time and do it right, you can eat up ten or fifteen minutes reading the en-tire Periodic Table of Mixed Drinks or the 13 Di!erent Types of Bowel Movements.

AWESOME!

35. Celebrity baby names#784Ã 36,522 Hits

My old roommate Joey had a theory about names.

“Basically, everybody should get to pick their own,” he said one Sunday morning, lazily sprawled across the couch flipping channels, his pale and hairy belly sticking out of his under-shirt. “I mean, why should the big-

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gest part of my personal identity be chosen by somebody else? Sure, you’d have a lot of six-year-olds named Su-perman, but we’d consider it a place-holder until they changed it to reflect their personality.”

He then sealed his airtight argument with a giant belch that filled the room with the smell of midnight gy-ros and we didn’t talk about it again.

Until now.

It’s been a few years, but I’m starting to wonder if Joey had a point there somewhere. Parents pick your name for you, and sometimes they come up with pretty strange ideas. But is there anything wrong with unique names? Well, maybe, maybe not. For thought-provoking discussion, let’s ask these celebrities:

10. Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Mar-tin – Apple. There’s something a little ripe about naming your kid af-ter a piece of fruit. Just ask my friend

Pear Rodriguez.

9. Shannyn Sossamon – Audio Sci-ence. Says the actress from A Knight’s Tale in an interview: “We wanted a word, not a name, so my boyfriend read through the dictionary three or four times.” Hey, I guess that works. And maybe one day the little slugger will grow up to be a high-end ampli-fier. Ba-dum-ching!

8. Robert Rodriguez – Rocket, Racer, Rebel, and Rogue. Dad will be so upset if Rocket becomes a plumber instead of developing the team into a band of caped crusaders.

7. David and Victoria Beckham – Brooklyn and Ashlee Simpson – Bronx. Now, Bronx is a standalone and the plus side of Brooklyn is that it’s easily split into both Brook and Lyn, making both slightly better choices than Staten Island.

6. George Foreman – George, George, George, George, and George. The

Grillman’s kids don’t have strange names, but they do all have the same one. Big George di!erentiates by number and has also given each a nickname: Monk, Red, Joe, Little George, and Big Wheel.

5. The Edge – Blue Angel. I guess Lisa, Jennifer, and Sue are automati-cally out if your name starts with The.

4. Bob Geldof and Paula Yates – Fifi Trixibelle, Little Pixie, Peaches Hon-eyblossom, and Luscious Tropical Mango. This obviously cranks the fruit-named theme up a few notches. Personally, I think Peaches is pretty sweet, though.

3. Jason Lee – Pilot Inspektor. Jason says he got the name from a Gran-daddy song he likes called “He’s Simple, He’s Dumb, He’s The Pilot.” That explains the Pilot part, anyway. As for Inspektor, we can only assume he was trying to di!erentiate from all the kids named Inspector.

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2. Jermaine Jackson – Jermajesty. Talk about leading a royally confus-ing life. “Did you want pickles on the side, Jermajesty?” Maybe Jermaine should’ve done what brother Michael did with his baby Prince 2, which is give him a more accessible nickname like Blanket.

1. Frank Zappa – Moon Unit, Dweez-il, Ahmet, and Diva Mu"n. Now I can’t be the only person out there who wants to be called Dweezil. Which Zappa would you be?

Well hey, listen, obviously baby names are getting more creative and celebrities are once again leading the charge. So do you agree with Joey and think we should all just pick our own then? Or do you think these names are beautiful and we should be happy getting what we got?

All I’m going to say is the jury’s still out, but if you’ve got a name you like, a name that fits you and you fit, then give three cheers and call your folks.

After all, they had to make a big pick without you. And if they nailed it, make sure you give them a hug and let them know you’re digging the you-you.Parents of the world, naming your newbie seems like a tough gig. For giving it thought and pulling it o! so your kids grow old and love what they got, well today we call you

AWESOME!

34. Roasting the perfect marshmallow

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First you turn that stick slowly over those blazing hot coals, letting the marshmallow crisp and bloat up into a golden brown cylinder of warm and drippy goo.

Then, just as it starts to slide a bit, you grab that sticky, drippy mess, tilt back your head, and just toss it right on home.

AWESOME!

33. When your favorite sports team is in the big nationally televised game

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Maybe you’re the San Diego Chargers fan who watches every game wear-ing a football helmet and a big foam thumb on your couch. Maybe you’re a diehard freak for the Boston Red Sox, Montreal Canadiens, or Man-chester United. Or maybe you can’t stop watching Chinese Taipei’s ma-jestic Cinderella climb into the Little League World Series.

Whatever your bag, one thing’s for sure: there’s nothing finer than watching your favorite team on na-tional television. For so many reasons:

Pressure. The audience for your team shoots up exponentially and your favorite players are broadcast into strange living rooms around the world. This is the big moment where everybody will judge you, so you bet-ter be ready to perform. Don’t let it get to your head.

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Better announcers. Okay, you may lose some of the local favorites who cheer for your club all the time. But you gain the veterans who’ve been broadcasting for years. I mean, how sweet is it when Joe Morgan chimes in with a stat on Sunday Night Base-ball? It’s like gravelly, statistically-accurate music.Feel like you’re home. Hey, if you don’t live in your home town any-more the big show might be the only chance you get to see your team play. How great is it to watch The World Cup in big city bars around the world? That’s what I’m talking about.It means you’re at least somewhat de-cent. Because they probably wouldn’t broadcast you nationally if your team was the Baltimore Orioles or some-thing.When your local club makes the Monday game, the World Cup, or the Final Four, there’s just something spe-cial about sitting down at home and watching them compete on that big stage. So take the phone o! the hook, make some popcorn, and settle in for

a great night with a million friends.

AWESOME!

32. Really, really short peo-ple

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They’re short and there’s nothing they can do about it except learn to live with their crazy shortness. For this reason, we respect them and think they’re cool.

If you’re really, really short, you feel it, be-cause this is your life:

• Forget see-ing anything at concerts. Sure, everybody loves being behind you, but at what price? The standing area is a bad scene and mosh pits are strictly o! limits. No, you’re stuck sitting at the bar or watching from the balcony.

• You can’t reach anything. Kitchen cupboards and closest shelves are bad enough, but the worst is when you find yourself somewhere alone and stoolless. People, if you’ve ever found yourself climbing the hotel bar fridge to reach the co!ee filters or stepping on the metal grocery store shelf to reach the hot sauce then you know what I’m talking about.

• Hard to date people. Well, not hard, but complicated. I mean, would you

date someone really, re-ally short? If not, you see the problem here. And don’t even get me started the short-guys-dancing-with-tall-girls

things. Fellas, I been there, too. It’s not easy.

• You can forget about that pro-volleyball career. You might still

make it as a referee, but that’s about it.

• You’re constantly adjusting driver’s

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seats and mirrors. On top of that, re-ally, really tall people complain when they get in the car after you and have to adjust everything because they can’t fit.

• Some roller coasters are o! limits. Minimum height requirements are clearly relics from a discriminatory society that inhabited this land before us.

It really is a tough life.

So next time you see a really, really short person, break out the empathy. Remember: they’re short and there’s nothing they can do except learn to live with their crazy shortness. Sure, they buy cheaper children’s clothes, find the best spots in Hide and Seek, sleep easier on couches, easily avoid walking into tree branches, are more comfortable at movies, and curl nicely into cramped spooning arrangements, but they also have to live life with a lot of limits. In this upside-down and inside-out world, that’s worth some-

thing.

So go on and throw them a smile and a nod, a cracking high five, and some quiet and humble respect.

AWESOME!

31. Your eyebrows#792Ã 31,893 Hits

All hail the mighty brow.

Folks, I ask you: what’s not to love about these shaggy forehead caterpil-lars? Let’s rack them up:

1. Sweat-B-Gone. Your shiny, slip-pery forehead is the perfect runway for sweat to launch straight into your eyes, stinging and blinding you as you go about shoveling the driveway. Good thing your perfectly shaped eyebrows are there, staunch and hairy defenders of the eyeball, whisking away sweat and keeping you seeing.

2. Don’t look ridiculous. If you had no eyebrows, you’d sort of look like

Whoopi Goldberg or the victim of a frat hazing that went too far.

3. Quiet talk. They say that 95% of all communication is non-verbal. You know, it’s less what you say, more how you say it. It’s your dress, your walk, your eyes, and the way you move your body. And if that’s true, what Body Prop comes in handier for this quiet talk than your ol’ eyebrows? Pop them up to show surprise, squint them tightly to show you ain’t happy, and maybe furrow one slightly to show you’re a bit confused. Eyebrows can help you say so much with so little.

Although we may often forget it, our eyebrows are rocking the forehead from the day we’re born to the day we die. They soldier on in the sun, sleet, wind, and rain and need to look pretty doing it. They don’t take vaca-tions and they don’t complain.

So let’s give it up for our eyebrows, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s give it up for dry eyes. Let’s give it up for show-

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ing emotion. Let’s give it up for not looking ridiculous.

And let’s give it up for love.

AWESOME!

30. Surprise two-ply#914Ã 45,123 Hits

Anyone else hate those big toilet paper wheels in the public restroom? You know the ones. They’re big, they’re plastic, and they hold mas-sive rolls of thin, transluscent one-ply toilet paper. And they’re pretty stingy with their papery plunder, too. Yes, you have to stick your hand up there and fish around a bit to find a loose end, and then give it an even, gentle tug just so to prevent it from ripping into bits.

And hey, how about those light, hos-pital boxes of one-ply Kleenex? Same deal, right? Blow your nose into that stu! and you’ll find your hands turn into a slippery, sticky mess. You might even have a few tiny bits of Kleenex

lingering around your nose or upper lip afterwards, too. It’s not pretty.

So that’s why it’s great when you discover some surprise, two-ply toilet paper in a public restroom or some surprise two-ply Kleenex on the coun-ter at the doctor’s o"ce. Yes, when it’s two-ply, you’re flying high, baby, because it comes out easy, goes down smooth, and just feels like home.

AWESOME!

29. When someone tells you that you have something in your teeth

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Natural team players, your big ol’ teeth chomp and ship freshly ground foodpaste down the gully to the rest of your digestive system, who fin-ish the job up in style. But unlike your stomach or large intestine, teeth actually have to look pretty doing it. They’re the frontman of the band, the captain of the ship, the CEO of Swallow It, Inc. Yes, your teeth are

on stage for the big scene at the din-ner table, while the rest of the brown, slippery organs down below change sets, hoist lighting, and clink triangles in the pit band.

Now, while our teeth are pulling double-duty on the front lines, we sure don’t make their lives much easier. They’re sweating away, trying to get the job done, and we’re talking, smiling, and laughing. On top of that we’re eating popcorn, spinach, and poppy-seed bagels, lodging tiny bits of food up into their fine nooks and crannies, turning their brave attempts to look pretty into a cartoonish poster about improper dental hygiene.

That’s why it’s so great when some-one tips you o! that there’s some-thing in your teeth. A quick, subtle tap to their own teeth or a whispered aside are enough to let you know your big, bright smile is currently featur-ing a piece of tomato skin. Of course, you might not get it at first, so ex-pect to say “Did I get it?” and “Is it

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gone?” a few times before you finally send it on its way. If you’re comfort-able, you might even need their phys-ical assistance as pictured.

So I say we owe massive head-bows and hand-kisses to these gracious tip-per-o!ers. And surely we owe them the same courtesy back, too. Let’s all work together to keep the whole world’s teeth free of little tiny bits of jammed up food.

AWESOME!

28. Picking scabs#903Ã 50,112 Hits

There’s just something so tempting about picking your scabs.

Maybe it’s because they sort of brown, harden, and crisp up, and end up looking like small, bumpy countries on the side of a topographi-cal map. You just can’t help but play God, cracking up the coastline, slowly twisting the island around, or just rip-ping the whole thing o! in one pain-

ful shot.

I mean sure, it might sting a bit. But check out that brand new skin under-neath. All flaky and pink, ready and waiting for whatever this great big world has to o!er. Even if it o!ers another round of rollerskating with-out kneepads on a gravel driveway.

Yes, picking scabs is a sweet guilty release — like twisting your tongue into your loose baby teeth, popping big zits in the center of your cheeks, or dropping hot farts underneath the sheets.

AWESOME!

27. Memories of McDonald-land

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McDonaldland was the trippy make-believe world where all the McDon-ald’s characters lived in harmony.

Growing up, we occasionally holed up in the corner of McDonald’s when

someone’s cool mom dropped some bills on a deliciously greasy birthday party. There was usually a giant mu-ral along the wall with all the Mc-Donaldland characters living fantasy lives in their all-burgers-all-the-time world. If you were lucky, you might even have played on the McDonald-land playground equipment with some of these guys:

• The Hamburglar. He’s dressed in black-and-white striped prison garb so we know he just escaped from the slammer. Maybe he broke out after a couple days of tuna melts and grilled cheeses. Anyway, I’m guessing he’s going to get caught again because that raccoon eye patch, oversized red tie, and Jackie O retro sunhat isn’t a great disguise.

• Mayor McCheese. Even though his head is a giant, wobbly cheeseburger, this guy is as suave as they come. Just look at the top hat, diplomat’s sash, and fancy reading specs. I feel like this greasy politician (hey-ohhhhhh!)

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stumbled into the Happy Meal uni-verse by accident. He should be at the opera or something.

• Captain Crook. Did anybody else think some lazy ad exec watched Peter Pan the night before inventing this guy?

• Ronald McDonald. Sadly, the red-haired clown was the most boring in the bunch. But then again, even though he looked like a hungover 30-year old in facepaint, he did inspire a generation of goths.

• Grimace. Everybody’s favorite, the purple giant played the lovable clumsy doofus of McDonaldland. Of course, in the original ads he had four arms, lived in a cave, and stole milk-shakes. Just thinking about it gives me nightmares.

• O"cer Big Mac. His giant two-all-beef-patties-special-sauce-lettuce-cheese-pickles-onions-on-a-sesame-seed-bun head prevents him from

running fast enough through town to catch all the escaped convicts. That’s okay though, because his perma-nently frazzled eyebrows tell us he’s trying.

• Apple Pie Trees, Filet-O-Fish Lakes, and Hamburger Patches. In McDon-aldland there were no beef process-ing plants, deep sea trawlers, or sugar kilns. Instead you just plucked hot hamburgers out of the patch, cast a line for Filets, and kicked the trunk of the Apple Pie Tree for des-sert.

• Uncle O’Grimacey. Gri-mace’s Irish uncle visited in March and brought his delicious Shamrock Shakes with him. On another note, did anybody else ever wonder where Auntie O’Orangey was, because

where did those delicious McArctic Orange shakes come from?

• Fry Guys. These guys were called Gobblins, Fry Guys, Fry Kids, Pac-Man Ghosts With Legs, or Rollerskat-ing Pom Poms.

• Birdie the Early Bird. Poor Birdie was the only female in McDonald-land. She got out of bed early to tell

us about the breakfast items. After that, I’m guessing she usually hit the pool hall or shoot-ing range with Smur-fette.

People, McDonaldland wasn’t a fictional place. No, it existed in the dimly-lit corner by the bath-rooms and on the dangerous plasti-

mold playground equipment in the parking lot.

It existed in the hearts and minds of kids everywhere because it was a place where we could be kids. Slam

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shots of orange drink, throw on some paper hats, play Pin the Arms on Gri-mace or Stack the Big Mac boxes, and scream as loud as you can. Then get bloated on sundaes, jump in the mini-van, and smile a slow, sticky smile on the drive home.

Sure, maybe it was dangerous. Sure, maybe it wasn’t good for us.

But it sure was childhood.

And it sure was

AWESOME!

26. Peeing in a pool#888Ã 53,152 Hits

Okay, admit it.

You’ve done it, I’ve done it, we’ve all done it together.

And sure, peeing in the pool is a bit of a social faux pas, but dang girl, it sure feels good, doesn’t it? After all:

Mini hot-tub. You get that classic hot cloud e!ect, where suddenly there’s a nice warm water-diaper hanging around you. Yeah, yeah, it’s gross, but don’t worry. It’s sterile.Feel that drain. Because holding it in isn’t good for you, either. So just let it out, let your bladder relax, and enjoy the feeling.It’s a secret. Unless you tell others, of course, which isn’t recommended. But there’s something sweet about keep-ing this one real quiet. Especially be-cause the pool’s probably half urine, anyway. Admitting you just peed will result in everyone else admitting they peed, too.Now, peeing in a lake is a decent al-ternative, but without the big dose of chlorine you might actually get some-one sick if they go under and swal-low a mouthful. And that just really wouldn’t be funny.

No, it wouldn’t be funny at all.

AWESOME!

25. Wrong colored foods#542Ã 54,746 Hits

Believe it.

There’s something great about eat-ing foods that aren’t the color they’re supposed to be. When you chomp on those deliciously mutant creations, it’s a feast for all your senses. Since the days of cavemen eating albino monkeys, we’ve been loving the un-explainable brain-jarring jolts of hap-piness that come with eating foods so wrong they just feel right:

• Purple or green ketchup. Back in the good ol’ days Heinz decided to make ketchup in di!erent colors. There was something about smear-ing that purple paint on your fries that head-tripped you back to being a little kid enjoying birthdays and barbecues.

• Black rice or black salt. The first time I saw black rice I thought it was white rice still in its shell. I pictured a big factory of steaming gears and

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smoking chimneys cracking open each grain with boxing mitts on a long, superthin assembly line.

• Cauliflower spawns. There was a time we only had one kind of strange mutant-colored cauliflower sitting in the produce stand. However, scientists have recently returned from more trips to outer space and lugged home suitcases full of these orange and purple beasts.

• All the other veggies in the rock-etship. Yes, I’m talking about dark purple potatoes, bright yellow carrots, golden beets, and yellow raspberries. Thank you for these, aliens.

• Blue or red tortilla chips. Nothing cranks the party dial from mellow to wild like popping out a bag of strange colored nachos, people. Pour them out and back far, far away. It’s time to go crazy.

• Taco Bell’s Blackjack Tacos. Think outside the bun. And while you’re at

it, think outside the color spectrum.

• Crystal Pepsi. If you loved drink-ing clear cola then I bet you loved the 90s. I also bet you can whistle The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song.

• Green beer. Hey, if you like a few drops of blue food coloring in the cheapest keg-swill we can find, then have we got a holiday for you!

• Shamrock Shakes. Now, while we’re dying your beer green for St. Patty’s Day, let’s stop and appreciate Uncle O’Grimacey bringing the love to McDonald’s. Yes, his green shakes spit in the face of the plain swirly flavors from The Man during the rest of the year. Don’t mess with Grimace’s uncle, folks.

• White bread dyed pastel colors. Okay, who else went to church ba-zaars when they were a little kid and ate delicately hand crafted egg-salad sandwiches made by sweet little old ladies?

• Colored cupcakes. This is truly the closest most of us will ever get to eat-ing a rainbow.

Now, sometimes it’s fun to chat about what makes awesome things awe-some. But then again, for some things it’s fun to just smile and accept that’s just the way they are. Wrong colored foods are something we just have to accept. Come on, there’s no denying they’re weirdly hilarious, strangely beautiful, and most certainly

AWESOME!

24. Getting through it#601Ã 55,281 Hits

That was a tough one.

Come on in and stop for a second to shake your head, dust yourself o!, and look back at how far you’ve come.

Sure, it’s been a long year. Some crushing lows slapped you and smacked you around. There were

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times your heart dipped and you squinted back tears while your stom-ach squeezed so tightly you couldn’t sleep. There were moments you walked around in a glossy-eyeball daze — when loved ones hurt, friends didn’t stay, or someone dear to your heart slowly drifted away.

Sleepless nights, stressful nights, with teething babies, slurring customers, bad bosses, bickering boyfriends, or blank computer screens. You were feeling and you were dealing and you were reeling and you were healing.

But as you walked your hard path down your long and bumpy road some little drops of confidence dripped like co!ee into your head and into your heart. As you stumbled and got back up a quiet inner strength slowly seeped into your bones. And as you climbed over obstacles set in your way some relaxed satisfaction and growing self-awareness glimmered like bright lights at the bottom of your stomach.

Yes, this year changed you and grew you in so many ways you don’t even feel or notice yet. As you struggled you empathized, as you slipped you understood, as you worked you earned…

… as you looked you learned

… … as you dared you grew

… … … and as you jumped you flew.

Your dreams are still focusing and your passion is growing. Your energy is still bubbling and your story keeps going.

You’ve been through so much and gained a year’s supply of experience along the way. You’re stronger than you were last year and stronger than you realize. Sure, there were times you bent, but you definitely didn’t break. There were times you caved, but you definitely didn’t flake.

Listen up: you got bigger, you got bet-ter, and you got the scars to prove it.

So stop for a second today to smile and look back at everything you’ve done this year… everything you’ve seen… everywhere you’ve been…

You’ve taken more illegal naps and had more blurry-eyed late nights.

You’ve danced to more wedding songs and smiled at more beautiful sights.

You’ve seen more scorching sunsets and heard more head-bopping songs.

You’ve tripped a few times, but baby, you kept rolling right along.

Yes, you’ve hugged more old friends and kissed some brand new pretty faces.

You’ve cheered more on the sidelines and visited some brand new pretty places.You tasted more meals, you got more

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deals, and you’ve sni!ed more flower blossoms.

And you made it all the way through this year because you’re so completely

AWESOME!

23. Being the guy in the con-struction crew who gets to hold the stop sign

#962Ã 58,726 Hits

Sometimes you drive by those con-struction workers and you just can’t believe what they’re going through.

Everyone’s face is covered in hot soot, sewer grease, and rain. One guy is up to his neck in the road, another is jackhammering his spinal col-umn into dust, and then there’s the guy driving the big roller, smearing steaming asphalt around like but-ter. And littering all these folks are the guys cranking pickaxes into the ground and the ones trying to steer big, clunky bulldozers down the nar-row gravel shoulder beside the ditch.

Of course, everyone on the team’s losing brain cells by the minute from the fumes which smell like a jammed laser printer had sex with a gas sta-tion.

If you happen to be working on a team of construction workers, then I think you’re pretty lucky if they hand you the job of being the guy who gets to hold the Stop sign. You must be either the grizzled veteran who earned each day of the Stop sign job with each slipped disc over the years, or you’re the skinny, babyfaced newbie who nobody trusts within a quarter mile of the job site.

Either way, if you can handle the guilt then your job’s, well…

AWESOME!

22. Barbecue lighers#968Ã 60,312 Hits

Shouldn’t all lighters be replaced by barbecue lighters? They’re not much more expensive, but they’re so much

more practical. No burning of the fingers. No getting your thumb all scraped. No trying to find this tiny little lighter that could be anywhere. You can’t lose a barbecue lighter. The thing’s the size of a fork. Sure, it’s got a little more weight, but it still fits in the average purse or pocket. And you can control the size of the flame! That’s gotta be worth something.

I think everyone should start carry-ing these things around instead of regular lighters. And who knows, you might actually have to light a barbe-cue sometime.

So there you go.

AWESOME!

21. Drinking a glass of cold water right after eating ice cream

#906Ã 60,341 Hits

Drinking a glass of cold water right after eating ice cream is like pure freezing cold mouth bliss. Your inside

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cheeks are frozen raw, your throat is cold and sti!, and your molars are wedged tightly with bits of nuts and chocolate.

So when you chug down that cold glass of water, it’s like an Arctic dam spilling into a sugary mineshaft. That water just feels so refreshing — like jumping into a bathtub of ice cubes, injecting Gatorade into your heart, or showering after a really, really long time.

And is it just me, or does the water seem to take away a bit of the guilt, too? Like you’re somehow balanc-ing out the cold, fat lump of Cherry Garcia in the pit of your stomach with something healthy and calling it even.

Hey, works for me.

AWESOME!

20. Facial hair experiments#875Ã 66,156 Hits

I used to be The Wolf Man.

At least, that’s what a big guy named Fletch used to call me in tenth grade homeroom. He said it with a hearty, bug-eyed giggle while pinch-ing and tugging the soft patches of thin, black hair extending from my ears to my collar bones.Now, I wasn’t just born The Wolf Man. No, I had to create the identity by first building up the guts to trim my thin, soft mustache and sideburns for the first time. That first shave was a nerve-wracking ordeal, with a fresh razor, a steamy mirror, too much lather, and too much blood.

And I guess being around fifteen years old and new to this whole slic-ing the hair o! your face with a knife thing, I didn’t realize that you were supposed to get the whole neck area,

too. So I didn’t get the neck area. I completely missed the neck area. So for a good couple of weeks, I walked around high school with a smooth, freshly shorn face, and an untamed, hairy neck area.

Ar-ar-aroooooooo!

But you know, look-ing back, I

really do miss it. I certainly couldn’t

pull o! the Gratuitously Hairy

Neck look these days, unless I wanted to leave Cubicle City to become a mountain guide, longshore fisher-man, or professional scarf warmer-upper.

And it’s not just the Hairy Neck look that deserves mention. There are so many other classic facial hair experi-ments:

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6. Mutton Chops. Although it seems obvious, mutton chops are so named because they look just like big lamb chops. The thicker, the hairier, the better, as you can tell from the photo of famous 19th century Norwegian playright Henrik Ibsen. His closest rival for the Muttonchop Crown was probably Elvis, but really it couldn’t have been that close. I mean, just look at those beautifully shaggy chops.

5. The Chin Strap. This chin strip is the result of a deep study in the art of making perfect lines with a sharp razor. It shows form, style, and pa-tience, because nobody can really nail it without messing it up a few times first and shaving the whole thing o! in frustration.

4. Weird beards. Ever seen someone who couldn’t grow a beard grow a beard anyway? And it sort of looks like a splotchy brown mess of assort-ed band aids and bread crumbs? Yeah, that’s a weird beard. Most guys have a few secret weird beards buried deep

in their past.

3. Soul Patches. Apparently, the soul patch became popular with jazz trumpeters in the 50s and 60s because it provided a nice, comfortable place to rest their trumpet. Yeah, for real.

2. Handle Bar Stache. Also known as The Hulk Hogan or the Fu Man Chu, this classic moustache just screams business. You can’t have a Fu Man Chu and be a local politician, elemen-tary school teacher, or birthday party clown. No, you have to either be a bartender at a dive bar, a cowboy, or in college.

1. Too Much Time On Your Hands. This is any intricate and detailed fa-cial hair involving lightning bolts or abstract images that look like they’re from Spirograph.

So yeah, I miss that youthful freedom of bizarre, anything goes facial hair. Because there’s something liberat-ing, creatively satisfying, and fiercely

expressive about experimenting with a dull razor in a steamy bathroom mirror.

And remember: no matter how crooked your chin strap, how tiny your mutton chops, or how splotchy your weird beard, whatever facial experiment you’ve got going on is always just a little bit

AWESOME!

19. Real-bearded Santas#971Ã 66,523 Hits

Rare is the Santa Claus who can ear-nestly grow that full lion’s mane of bright white hair. But I’m sorry, it’s what We The People demand. Fake beards on Santa Claus are an insult. They mock the jolly Christmas cheer, like a wreath made out of lettuce, gingerbread house made of saltines, or a turkey made out of Tofurkey.

So let’s get one thing straight, Kringle — grow the real beard or don’t apply at the mall. It’s that simple. And it’s

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what the fraternity demands.

AWESOME!

18. "e telephone#957Ã 67,756 Hits

What’s this? I can talk into a clump of plastic and wires over here and you can hear me from the other side of the planet a millisecond later?

AWESOME!

17. Tire names#969Ã 81,126 Hits

A friend and I were out recently buying a new set of tires for the balding Spaldings on her old Mazda. This was her first time buying tires, so we basi-cally listened to the sales guy’s advice on what she should get.

“Well, you know the Eagle Eyes are pretty good,” he began “They’re bet-ter for winter driving than the Com-

manders, but not as good as the Ice Claws. But then again, if you’re on a budget then there’s nothing wrong with the Destinys. Sure, they’ve got a slightly lower mileage than the Ever-treks or the Neverending Trails, but they’re definitely going to be better bang for your buck than the Hunter XTs or the Peregrines.”

Seemingly targeted at the little sack of testosterone

hanging in the back of guy’s brains, tire names conjure

up images of grit, muscles, dirt, and birds of prey. I think we have to presume the big tire

companies tested other names, but they just got the

thumbs down from the focus groups. That’s why you can’t buy a set of Fly-ing Chickadees, Sidewalk Renegades, or Rainbow Escapades.

But however they came to be, one thing’s for sure — tire names are a tiny bit of hilarious nonsense we can

all enjoy.

AWESOME!

16. Anything that can grow wings

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In the suburb of Toronto where we live they’ve implemented a new re-cycling initiative which I’ve dubbed Project Stinky. Everyone received a green bin and we’ve been instructed to load it up with our moldy compost each week — from eggshells and stale bread to raw chicken and wads of paper towel. Everything composta-ble is greenbinnable, and us residents are just being asked to do our part to keep planet Earth, quote unquote, truckin’.

In the beginning I had no real prob-lem with Project Stinky. It was a stinky project, sure, but really a small price to pay for diverting a pail full of garbage from the dump each week. If somebody was willing to drive around town and pick up our compost then

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hey, who are we to stop them? We even used those biodegradable green bags too, until the city left us stick-ers telling us that those really didn’t degrade into bio very quickly so we should just dump our compost in the bin au naturel. We said sure, kept do-ing what we were doing, and in gen-eral felt a bit better about ourselves for doing our part.

Then the maggots came.

I guess the blazing heat of the past few weeks did a number on the pile of rotten food sitting in the green bin outside. That explains why a few weeks ago I opened the lid of the bin to awaken a wall full of white, squirmy maggots that were wriggling up the side and all over the lid of the green bin. Stunned, I took a step back, let out a high-pitched scream, and ran away. Then I jumped in my car and drove straight to work, hop-ing it was all a dream.

When I got there I told my coworker

Laurie about my harrowing experi-ence. “Oh, yeah, that happens,” she said nonchalently, not even look-ing away from her computer screen, clacking away on emails. “We call it the Maggot Wagon at our house. But don’t worry! They’ll just fly away eventually.”

There was a pause as I thought about that for a minute. First I was like “Say what, girlfriend?”, but then I did a bit of research and found out that Lau-rie’s right. I guess I was just the last to learn about this whole metamor-phosis thing. Maggots are just baby flies – cute little larval worms looking to grow some wings and fly around until they fall in love and make some more baby maggots with one of their own. It’s kind of cute, really. Cater-pillars are in the same boat. After wiggling around on tree trunks and

nibbling on leaves for a while, they fi-nally clue in and grow wings, turning themselves into beautiful butterflies, haphazardly flying o! into the setting sun.

Frankly, I imagine growing wings is a pretty tough task.

You might have to spin yourself

a cocoon or hide in a tree knot or some-

thing, you know, just for a bit of

privacy. Hey, if you’re about to meta-

morphasize you need your space, I get that. And then of course there’s probably a lot of gritting your teeth, squeezing your muscles re-ally tight, and screaming ‘Nnnnn! NNNNNNNN!’ a lot. Plus, you’re on your own. No one’s around to cheer you on. You just push and push and push and push until you finally give birth… to yourself.

Most people have probably thought

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about flying once or twice. I know I have. It’s gotta rank up there with being invisible and seeing through clothes on the Things I Want To Be Able To Do list. For that reason, I say the idea of wriggly little insects squeezing out a pair of wings and then just flying away is completely admirable. It’s simply honorable. It’s downright respectable. And we all know it’s just totally

AWESOME!

15. Putting the toppings on a hot dog bun before the hot dog

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Toronto is home to some of the best hot dog street vendors in the world. Street meat, we call it proudly, wait-ing in lines to get char-grilled, crisp-on-the-outside, soft-on-the-inside, big, brown beautiful hot dogs. The dogs usually come set perfectly in a pu!y, yellow bun, like a smiling child tucked tightly into bed. Yes, it’s a glowing little beef-tube of heaven,

a spicy little meat-wand of joy, the perfect company for a movie or a long walk home after the bars.

Now, despite the powerful taste-punch to the mouth the street ven-dor hot dog delivers, I’m sorry to say there is just one little problem: my friend, there is spill- age, and plenty of it. Hot dog vendors pride themselves on their never ending array of toppings, from spicy mustard to onions, pickles to olives, sauerkraut to banana peppers. It’s a delicious den of germs just sitting out on the street in little glass jars, protected from gas fumes, building exhausts, and pigeon crap by nothing more than a large umbrella.

Now, like most people, I love hot dog toppings. But you and me, together we face a common problem: trying to balance piles of wet toppings on top of a round, slippery wiener. It

ain’t easy, homes. Usually the relish slips o! first, and you get those artis-tic looking ketchup and mayo swirls dripping onto your pants. Worst-case scenario you get a rogue pickle coated in mustard leaving a big yellow skid mark right on the belly of your T-shirt. The ladies sure love those.

I laugh, but folks: this is a serious problem.

Thankfully though, there is a solution: Yes, I’m talking about

The Toppings-First Meth-od. That’s right, believe it. Now here’s how it all goes down:

First, ask for your bun while the hot dog is still cooking. “Mind if I get the bun first?” There, just like that. Most vendors will just hand it over, so now you’re holding a big empty hot dog bun in your hand. Everyone with me so far?Next is the very important bedding step. I cannot overemphasize the

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importance of this step. You can’t just lay your wet condiments down in the crack of the bun and expect the integrity of the bun to hold up. That would be ridiculous. No, you need to lay down a layer of condiment bed-ding first that gently cradles the wet toppings while preventing them from soaking through. Your ideal choices here are diced onions, pickles, or even lettuce if you have to.

Okay, now… load that bun up like there’s no tomorrow! Just keep piling the wet toppings in there! Deep red river of ketchup, bright yellow pools of mustard, generous spoonfuls of relish. Load it up. Believe me, the dog will still fit.Finally, dog up! Rest that beautiful Fat Jim right down on your sugary bed of condiments. It may lay a bit high on the bun, but don’t you worry. Everything will still fit. Now the hot dog serves as shield and a guide, pro-tecting your pants while escorting the delicious condiments into your hun-gry stomach below.

This is a magical technique I first learned from my friend Chad. He has perfected it to a science, where he has a very specific condiment architecture involving categorizing condiments into “wet”, “gritty”, and “cheese.” He can talk for five minutes about how relish is the most underrated topping or how proper cheese place-ment is key to fine melting. The point is that there are more advanced ver-sions of this technique, but you really need to master the basics first. Sure, I’ve given you a guide. But only you can do the rest.

AWESOME!

14. Really, really tall people#890Ã93,372 Hits

They’re tall and there’s nothing they can do about it except learn to live with their crazy tallness. For this reason, we respect them and think they’re cool.

If you’re really, really tall, you feel it, because this is your life:

•Everyone hates you at movies and concerts. Sure, you get a decent sight-line, but at what price? Everybody in the room resents you and you have to put up with constant shu$ing behind you and people saying things like “Oh great, I’m stuck behind Stilts here.”

•Guaranteed back pain. Duck into a car and lean over to tie your shoes enough times and you’ll eventually score some sharp, shooting pains in that lower lumbar.

•Hard to date people. Well, not hard, but complicated. I mean, would you date someone really, really tall? If not, you see the problem here.

• You are forced to play basketball. Doesn’t matter if you like it, doesn’t matter if you don’t — you just have to play. Also, if you’re no good, you’ll never hear the end of it, and if you are good, people will say it’s just be-cause you’re really, really tall.

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•People always want you to get stu! from the top shelf. And guess what else you get when you pull down that giant soup pot nobody’s used in two years? That’s right: a big faceful of dust, that’s what. Hope you’re not al-lergic.

• You’re always hitting your head on everything. If you’re really, really tall, you know what I mean, because your skull is full of spider cracks from chandeliers, basement stairwells, and overhead bins on airplanes.

•Life is more expensive. Because raiseable desks, extra-long pants, and King-sized mattresses aren’t cheap, bro. You know that and I know that.

It really is a tough life.

So next time you see a really, really tall person, break out the empathy. Remember: they’re tall and there’s nothing they can do except learn to live with their crazy tallness. In this upside-down and inside-out world,

that’s worth something. So throw them a smile and a nod, a solid high-ten, or just some quiet respect.

AWESOME!

13. When you pull up to a red light and the guy in front of you nudges up a bit so you can make a right turn

#986Ã95,364 Hits

Don’t you love it when you pull up to a red light in the right lane, and the guy in front of you notices and squeezes out into the intersection a bit, just so you can make your right turn a bit faster? What a great thing that is. Careful though — now it’s your job to give a sincere Thank-You Wave as you drive by, because you know they’re waiting for it and be-sides, did they just shave twenty sec-onds o! your commute or what?

AWESOME!

12. "inking it’s "ursday when it’s Friday

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Because you’re going to figure it out eventually.

AWESOME!

11. Eating things past the ex-piry date

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I used to follow expiry dates like gospel, figuring the sour cream would sweeten, the ice cream would melt, and the rice would crumble into dust the morning after after the the block-stamped date on the bottom of the package had passed. If the expiry date was closing in, I’d just cut my losses and chuck it. “Better safe than sorry,” I’d say, tossing a half-full car-ton of orange juice o! the wall and into the garbage.

Then for the two years while I lived with Joey in Boston, I witnessed him first-hand casually disregard expiry dates with a wave of the hand and a

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slight laugh. “What’s going to hap-pen?,” he’d ask sarcastically, putting together a salad with brown Ro-maine, rock-hard croutons, and Cae-sar dressing that poured out a film of oil before the dressing came out. “Am I go-ing to die?”

And he had a point. While the nutritional content of last month’s blueber-ries may have slipped a notch, as long as they weren’t growing spores or start-ing to smell like a diaper, how bad could they be? I watched Joey carefully from a distance for a while, looking for signs that he was putting himself at risk. But no, nothing. He kept right on standing. No retching from his bedroom late at night, no disappearing rolls of toilet

paper and clogged pipes, no sudden hospital visits after eating doggie-bag chicken wings from someone’s birth-day party a month before. He was all right.

And so with newfound courage I slowly started testing the wa-

ters. Cans of soda seemed like easy first targets. I don’t even

remember them having expiry dates when I was

a kid, and so the terse finger-wagging print-

ed on the bottom of the aluminum

can seemed like a bit of a

joke. Who throws

away an un-

opened can of Diet Pepsi? I suppose

Pepsi would love it if we just bought their stu!, stashed it for a while, and then threw it out. But I would no longer stand for that. So I conquered

soda, then branched out into potato chips. They go stale when you don’t seal them, they stay fresh when you do, right? So the date probably ap-plied if you left them sitting in a bowl on your co!ee table, I eventually figured. I bought them, I’ll eat them, even if it takes me till Christmas.

It was tougher to be brave with bread and milk, but I convinced myself that worst-case scenario I was just eat-ing penicillin and cheese. I pictured a cracker with a square of brie and a pink capsule squished right into it and I thought “That’s not that bad.”

And so it went. Buying groceries just for myself got easier, knowing that I had the newfound strength to down yellow orange juice or slice up on-ions that had grown roots and were searching desperately for soil under my kitchen sink. Plus, I saved a lot of money, and I like to think I helped give my immune system some tough new cases to crack, like sending it to the gym for some strength training

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and mental focusing so it’s ready for prime time. This way I’m ready in case I ever get shot with a poison dart or mistake a glass of paint thinner for water.

Now, I’m not advocating being stupid. The fuzzy lampchops should probably still be left alone. But come on, let’s hear it for pushing a little bit harder. Let’s here it for testing the waters. Let’s hear it for eating things past the expiry date.

AWESOME!

10. Picking your nose#982Ã125,435 Hits

Let’s face it, there’s a lot going on in the nose area:

1. Breathing: You might have figured it out by now, but breathing is pretty high up there on the Reasons Your Nose Exists list, together with smell-ing stu! and holding up your glasses. Yes, your nostrils provide safe trans-port for air to keep rushing buckets

of oxygen to the eternal flame that is your lungs. The job’s so impor-tant they installed a backup nostril for cold and allergy season, and even hooked all the breathing plumbing up to your mouth too, so you’re dou-ble backed up.

2. Nose Hairs: It’s like Superman’s Fortress of Solitude in your nose, except instead of ice crystals shooting jaggedly in all directions, nose hairs. Think of nose hairs as the first de-fense against all the nasty dirt, dust, and bugs flying around from entering your respiratory system. Yes, these are the Nose Hair Knights guarding the Nasal Passage Drawbridge to the Castle of Your Lungs.

3. Nasal Mucus: The nasal mucus is the second line of defense after your nose hairs. If a piece of flying dirt manages to deke out your nosehairs, there’s a decent chance it won’t get past The Slime in your nose. Nasal mucus, or The Slime, traps and un-ceremoniously drowns intruders to

your body. This really exhausts na-sal mucus, so when it gets loaded up with gunk it usually dries into crispy boogers. And this all happens without you even having to lift a finger. Folks, it may be disgusting, but this is The Magic of Your Body.

Anyway, picking these dried crisp-ies out of your nose is a very natural thing. Plus, it clears up your airways, shows the airborne particulate who’s boss, and feels like a million bucks.

Just pop your finger right on up there, making sure to aim your eyes up to the left and curl your tongue onto your upper lip like you’re deep in thought, and then swivel and curl your finger in a variety of directions to pull it out. Don’t be embarrassed. We are pro bringing nose-picking out of the closet here. It is a natural thing that we were born to do. Just look at babies with their fingers wedged right up there with no shame for hours on end. It’s like I always say: We can learn much from the baby.

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If you’re a little put o!, think of picking your nose like cleaning out the hair trap in your shower. Sure, it’s gross and disgusting, sure, you should probably wash your hands afterwards, and sure, you should do it before com-pany comes over. But let’s make one thing clear: that trap serves a valuable purpose by preventing hair from clog-ging up your pipes and getting your system all gummed up. Same thing with your nose. It provides a valuable purpose, and you should let it keep doing what it’s doing by giving it a little swirl every now and then, tidy things up a bit, reboot the system, you know. It’s not nose-picking so much as nose-maintenance. Remember that.

If you’re on my side here and you be-lieve in the wonder of nose picking to help get the job done, then stand up and proudly declare yourself a rhino-tillexomaniac. I just learned that rhino means nose, tillex means pick at, and mania means obsessed with. Maybe even try it on a business card

to sound like you’re a lofty political o"cial of a tiny, far-away land. “Vice President of Rhinotillexomania.”

Last thing: According to an anony-mous survey by the University of Wisconsin 91% of adults say they pick their nose but only 49% believe it to be a common habit. Let’s hold hands here today and proudly shat-ter that misconception. Yes, you pick your nose. And yes…everyone else does, too.

AWESOME!

9. Spending all your money on candy

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Everyone’s got the candy of their generation, their neighborhood, and their tastes. What sugary delights sent young minds to greats heights when you were a kid? Well, let’s share. Here are some highlights from fourth grade:

9. Lotsa Fizz. Also known by its more

convenient nickname ‘Fizz’, these candies masqueraded as a regular ol’ hard candy, the kind you might find in a doctor’s o"ce or a crystal dish in your grandma’s front foyer. Other than the snake-like packaging, linking individually-wrapped pieces together, there appeared to be noth-ing special about them. However, once you crunched into them, they released a tingly, carbonated bubble-liquid that sizzled and frothed on the tongue. A real advancement in the candy surprise e!ect.

8. Massive, fist-sized Jawbreakers aka Dinosour Eggs. The big question here was who could fit these in all the way? Occasionally, a local big mouth would manage to squeeze it up in there, and then proceed to nearly suf-focate while trying to simultaneously breathe and speed-suck the jaw-breaker down to a smaller size with drool flying everywhere. It wasn’t pretty. You were actually watching them OD right in front of you. Of course, others would simply leave the

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giant jawbreaker on their night table and have a few licks before bedtime, spending a year or so patiently turn-ing the smooth sphere it into a faded, rubbed-out rainbow of dried spit and sugar. Whatever you think about these things, they definitely came out on top of the Total Candy Minutes Per Dollar ranking.

7. Pez. Was it just me, or did Pez have a kind of weird taste? Don’t get me wrong — the dispenser alone was enough for some great memories, de-spite some questionable versions over the years.

6. Tear Jerkers aka Sour Balls. At the time, Tear Jerkers were a futuristic advancement in Artificial Souring Technology. They caused a massive sugar high epidemic at my grade school, with kids running over to the variety store at lunch to grab a new bag, daring each other to eat two or three at a time. The gum that re-mained after the sour powder was gone was always a wet, syrupy disap-

pointment, and usually ended up in the trash to make more room in your mouth. But that sour powder packed a punch and it often left the insides of your cheeks all inflammed and torn up for the rest of the week. And of course, there was always the big ques-tion: who has the guts to eat the leftover patch of sour pow-der in the corner of the bag?

5. Fun Dip aka Lik-M-Aid. Fun Dip was an entirely new way to eat your candy: Lick an edible candy stick and then use your own spit as glue to col- lect all the sugar-powder below. Well, it was a great long-lasting treat, as long as your stick didn’t come broken when you bought it. If that happened, you had to dive in with your wet finger instead. But you had to be careful, be-

cause it was that mark of the stained, purple finger that gave away why you weren’t hungry at dinner time. A lot of people would finish o! by eating the actual stick itself for good mea-sure which is sort of like eating your fork after finishing your pie.

4. Hot and Cold Nerds. Nerds was always a decent

backup selection — it filled up the candy

bag but was rarely the first pick. Sure, that little box of tiny, hard, asteroid-shaped

candy o!ered two flavors in one box, but there was nothing too special about picking up Watermelon and Grape or Strawberry and Lemon. That is, until Nerds came out with the temperature-themed Hot and Cold Nerds box in the late 80s. Sure, maybe it was just bright, red cinna-mon and bright, blue wintergreen, but it sure was fun alternatingly burning and freezing sensations in

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your mouth. Of course, there were always two kinds of Nerds kids — the slow, tantric, shake-it-in-your-hands-and-savor-it kids, and the minute men who instead preferred the all-in-one-go, head-tilt, box-shake manou-ver.

3. Bizarre Forms of Gum. Remember the glory days where gum came in so many di!erent forms? There was baseball card gum, shattering and cutting the inside of your mouth like glass when you bit into it. There was Big League Chew, the shredded chewing tobacco gum. And of course there were Bubble Jugs, Bubble Tape, and even Bubble Gum Squeeze Tubes, which you pushed into your mouth like toothpaste, though with the exact opposite e!ect.

2. Pixy Stix. I always admired the straight-shooting style of Pixy Stix. Unlike the other candies, they didn’t dress up and pretend to be anything besides sugar. They were the real

deal, straight up, just sugar in a straw. You want something gummy, sticky, sour, or chewy? Try the other guys. Now, if you want plain sugar, you’ve come to the right place. Available in regular size and occasionaly a Super Jumbo Straw version. Just be care-ful you don’t get dry-throat and gag on it when your brother pours a straw-ful down your throat.

1. Popeye Ciga-rettes. These ones were the real deal, before they took o! the red tip at the end and rebranded them as ‘Popeye’s Candy Sticks.’ Yes, after a dark, moody stint with the patch, Popeye man-

aged to finally kick the habit. But good thing, or he probably wouldn’t be with us today.

Yes, finding and chowing down on some of the candies you grew up with is like sucking on sugary memo-ries. Because how did it feel walking out of your local corner store with a wide smile pasted across your face, an

empty wallet, and an armful full of candy?

I think we all know the answer to that.

AWESOME!

8. Opening and sni#ng a pack of tennis balls

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Not too many things that aren’t soda sound like soda when they’re opened. But tennis balls do, and that’s part of their beauty. You just snap back that tab, hear that pshhhhh sound, and then catch a whi! of those vacuum sealed, Korean-factory packed, hot

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rubbery plastic fumes. Tennis any-one?

AWESOME!

7. Yellow teeth#961Ã140,824 Hits

Hey, since when are teeth supposed to be beaming white, shining like little flashlights whenever somebody laughs or smiles?

The way it’s been lately with the whitening strips, gels, gums, and toothpastes, the baking soda this, the dental bleaching that, well it almost seems like Having Bright White Teeth is becoming another mandato-ry personal hygiene norm, landing in the pile with a hollow clank alongside showering every day, wearing deodor-ant, and flushing the toilet when you only did Number One.

So to that I say: Wait! Let’s just settle down and calmly rethink this whole situation before it gets out of hand. We haven’t checked the box and

stamped approved on the application just yet, so people, there’s still time. We can reject unnaturally white teeth and go back to the way things were.

Yes, I’m talking about the yellow teeth of your youth, the au natural teeth, the teeth you grew up with, the modest aw shucks pearly yellows of Joe Everyman and Jane Everylady. We can still embrace the teeth that get stained with co!ee and smoke and spaghetti sauce and Indian food. The teeth that love us no matter who we are or what we eat.

If you aren’t yet picking up what I’m putting down, then I’ve got just one more reason to love yellow teeth again: cause white teeth hurt. I’m talking hot and cold sensitivity, weak-ened enamel, and receding gum lines. Girl, it ain’t pretty. Don’t get messed up and addicted to the whitening stu!. No, we like having you around. Nobody wants to find you sprawled face-down on a stained motel room carpet, little squeezed-out packs of

Crest Whitestrips laying all over the floor.

So come with me, back to the world where teeth are yellow. The way they were meant to be. And hey, next time someone comes up to you, points you square in the mouth, and says “Bud-dy, your teeth are yellow!”, just smile, look them square in the eye, and say, “Why yes, yes they are. And you know what? I think that’s alllllllll-right.”

AWESOME!

6. Blowing your nose in the shower

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When you wake up with your ol’ nose holes filled to the brim with thick, slow-moving night-phlegm, there’s only one solution. That’s right. Get up, stumble to the shower, and let’s get down to business.

First, that hot steam needs to get the job started. Those tiny flying water

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molecules are like miniature chisels, floating right on up your nose and hammering away at the Wall of Salty Nose Gel blocking your air passages.

At the same time those flying chisels are working their magic, another old friend shows up just in time to lend a hand as well. Our old pal gravity. Just standing up lets the night-phlegm know you mean business, and that you’ll employ the use of any weapon necessary to get those air passages cleared up for the long day ahead.

So now you’re in the shower. You’re totally soaked at this point — front and back got a rinse at least, maybe a tummy wash in there — and every-thing sure is all hot and steamy, nice and thick like a blanket of fog.

At this point you should feel a bit of a tickle high inside your nose, as the wall slowly starts to give away. Now is not the time for complacency. “Oh, I’ll just let gravity and steam fin-ish what they started,” is what you

should not say. No, now is the time to attack!

There are three steps to pull it o!:

Place your thumb right on the out-side of one of your nostrils — pref-erably the one which is getting the better airflow at the moment. By doing this you essentially drop a mas-sive two-by-four across your airway’s emergency exit door. Now there is no way for that air to get out of your lungs, except for your other nostril. And your mouth, of course.Close your mouth.NOW BLOW AS HARD AS YOU POSSIBLY CAN!!! EYES CLOSED, CHIN DOWN, BLOW, BLOW, BLOW!!! PUSH, THERE YOU GO, KEEP PUSHING OUT!!! LONG, HARD PUSH!!! PUSH, PUSH, PUSH!!! ANNNNNNNND… you’re done.…

…

… So, how was it? Did it do the job? If not, you probably still feel clogged up. You’re out of breath, tired, and frustrated. But I hope that didn’t happen to you. I hope you broke the translucent nosespit dam wall right on down. I hope you blew that clear, slick membrane of headglue away. If you did the job right, your hand should now look like you just squeezed the life out of a baby jel-lyfish. And if does, I want to give you my sincere congratulations. Because you, my friend, are incredibly

AWESOME!

5. Playing old-school video games

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If you’ve ever enjoyed some lazy af-ternoons just sitting on the rug, pass-ing greasy controllers around, and occasionally blowing into the business end of a Nintendo cartridge, then you know what we’re talking about here. We’re talking about the best old-school video games of all time. Here

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goes nothing:

13. Super Mario Bros 2. There are two kinds of people in this world: those who loved Mario 2 and those who hated it. If you hated it, you just couldn’t get past all the turnip-dig-ging and carrot-tossing. If you loved it, you picked Princess, flew through all the levels, defeated all the egg-spitting ostrich bosses, dusted your palms together, and you called it a day. Of course, there was always that massive sense of disappoint-ment when the end credits revealed that the entire game was just a dream Mario had one night. What a bum-mer.

12. Wolfenstein 3D. Wolfenstein re-ally blew open the whole world of first-person shooters back in 1992. It was just you, a bunch of Nazis, and a maze of neverending hallways. Sounds scary, but you’d be fine as long as you ate enough turkey drumsticks before battling Robot Hitler. Mein leben!

11. Street Fighter 2. This game really evened the odds between the older brother, with the thick glasses and the cal-loused thumbs, and the kid sister, with the overalls and toothy

aw-shucks grin. Be-cause that kid sister, that Ninten- do novice, that rookie who never played video games, well she could just go on a hot streak of straightup neverending E. Honda hundred-

hand-slaps and there really wasn’t anything the older brother could do about it. Except possibly pull her hair until she started crying. Sorry, Nina.10. Duck hunt. The great-great-grandfather of the Nintendo Wii would have to be Duck Hunt, where you used the plastic plugged-in gun

to learn how to hunt. Now, who else walked right up the TV in frus-

tration and killed every duck from two inches

away? You practi-cally had to when

that invincible dog started laughing at

you. There was no choice. Plus, how else

could you train for clay shooting?

9. Bubble Bobble. An afternoon fall-ing through the Bubble Bobble levels was like acid tripping for a six-year old. The music got wilder and wilder as you and a pal continuously slaugh-tered robots by su!ocating them in your dangerous dinosaur-spewed bub-

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bles and then eating their dead corps-es which, after you popped them, magically turned into shiny pieces of fruit. Somehow this all made sense, too. We must’ve been high on Pixy Stix.

8. Pong. Distributed exclusively by Sears for $100 a pop during the 1975 Christmas season, Pong eventually burned its way into hearts and televi-sion screens across the world.

7. Mike Tyson’s Punch Out. Before rape, prison, and facial tattoos, Mike Tyson starred in an animated game for children. You played as Little Mac and worked your way up the circuit by pummeling boxers like Glass Joe, Bald Bull, Mr. Sandman, and eventu-ally Mike Tyson himself. The char-acters were great and Mario even moonlighted as the referee here, once again showing his tremendous versa-tility and athleticism.

6. Sonic The Hedgehog. Sonic was a great game to play when you went

over to your friend’s house and they had Sega instead of Nintendo. Why did they have Sega instead of Ninten-do? Well, it was either for the sports games or the blood in Mortal Kombat, one of the two.

5. Tetris. If you were lucky, you could get away with telling your parents that Tetris was educational. It cer-tainly looked like it was too, with all that falling geometry and the Krem-lin backdrops. Though no one could really prove it, there sure was some-thing suspiciously mathy about it. Of course, the greatest thing about Tetris was that you could just blame the game when you died. Those random shapes turned us all into hollow-eyed fatalists, left staring blankly into the television, shaking our heads and saying “I was just waiting for a line” over and over again.

4. Solitaire in Windows 3.0. Solitaire was that classic boring card game that you played by yourself when the boss wasn’t looking. It’s funny because al-

most everyone who finds it strangely addictive admits that it is in fact a completely terrible game. But it sure was a good way to teach your grandpa how to use a mouse.

3. Contra. Everyone talks about the famous Contra code that you entered during the startup screen to begin with 30 men but few people talk about how impossible this game was without the code. You had people shooting at you from all directions, you died after one bullet, and you started the game with only three lives. Even with the spray gun you probably only ran for about twenty seconds before getting shot and call-ing it quits. So basically, Contra taught us that bullets are really dan-gerous and that’s why cheating is important.

2. Super Mario Bros. There are so many memories from this instant classic, like the creepy music in World 1-2, the warp zone, the ham-mer brothers, the flying fish, and the

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first time you ever heard the phrase: “Thank you Mario! But our princess is in another castle!”

1. Super Mario Bros 3. Fred Sav-age helped Mario 3 launch to fame with the ninety-minute commercial known as The Wizard. Remember his catatonic little bro who just said ‘Cali-forn-yah’ the whole movie but even-tually showed the world how to find the whistle? Yes, Mario 3 completely blew everything else away by intro-ducing us to flying raccoons, angry suns, Tanooki and Frog suits, and that impossible Tube World. It was a larg-er than life video game that provided years of fun at birthday parties and sleepovers everywhere. For this last game, how about the original com-mercial instead of a clip? I believe it accurately captures how the world felt about this game.

Yes, playing old school video games was always a sure way to get sore thumbs, strained eyes, and a dry mouth. But would you trade anything

for all those hours in front of the TV set exploring strange and exotic worlds with your friends? Yes, the sun would dip down, the lights would go o! upstairs, the bowls of Doritos and cans of Pepsi would empty, but that bright, flickering light from the TV didn’t stop casting kaleidoscope shad-ows on the wide-eyed faces sitting three feet in front of them well into the night.

And those were some seriously good times, my friend.

Some seriously good times.

AWESOME!

4. Big, fat asses#950Ã181,936 Hits

This ain’t no party line.

Let’s not talk about how you need to accept yourself for who you are, not what you look like, or how it’s what’s inside that counts. Let’s talk about the big ol’ side of ham hanging out the

back of your pants. That’s a great side of ham for five big reasons:

1. Built-in seat cushion. Everywhere you go, everywhere you sit, things are just a bit more cushy. Tough bi-cycle seats on long bike rides, wait-ing chairs at the doctor’s o"ce, the hard plastic fold-downs at the base-ball game — yes, they all transform into soft and comfortable relax-o-sits. Practical and convenient.

2. You last the longest after a crash landing in the mountains. The skin-ny, bony people on your rugby team won’t last long camping out and shiv-ering in the hollow, burnt-out fuse-lage. No, the harsh, unforgiving An-des will eat them right up. But your generous reserves will kick-in and start feeding the rest of your body so you’ll have more energy to flag down a plane.

3. Baby got baby. Larger rears often mean wider hips on women which means a body riper for fertility and

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making babies. If you want to have kids, you might find it a bit easier to do so. And hey, some of us wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for fat asses, so give it up, y’all.

4. Better conga line caboose. Say you’re at a wedding and Feeling hot! hot! hot! comes on. The crowd cheers and a giant, winding conga line be-gins snaking around the dance floor. Well, my friend, that big, fat ass you got is the best caboose on that conga line. So I say shake it. Nobody wants to see a rail-thin toothpick awkwardly shimmying at the back of the line. No, they want to see someone just loving it, just getting right into it, just shaking their ass like there’s no to-morrow. Olé, olé, indeed.

5. Say no to diabetes. According to these eggheads at Harvard, folks with a larger rear end may have a smaller chance of getting diabetes. Yeah, they call it subcutaneous fat, and it appar-ently helps improve sensitivity to in-sulin, which helps keep blood sugar in

check. Thanks, Harvard! And thanks, fat ass!

So if you have a big, fat ass, I say love it for real. Because your big, fat ass is keeping you comfortable, helping you survive, pumping out babies, getting the dance floor hopping, and keeping diabetes in check. Just tell me that’s not

AWESOME!

3. Ugly actors#883Ã183,835 Hits

Props to ugly actors.

These wrinkly, crinkly stars of the screen made it up through a system that values looks and beauty and they did it on raw talent alone. Yes, ugly actors shine bright as a beacon of hope to any of us with bushy eye-brows, gap teeth, or big, crooked nos-es. They show us the power of doing what you love, even if the system says you don’t qualify. So let’s recognize some of the best of the best:

#12 John C. Reilly. It’s refreshing is to see that belly pudge and ung-roomed armpit hair. You keep your tabloid cover shots of David Beckham running shirtless on the beach with a perfect six-pack. We’ll keep John C. Reilly and his silent approval of our sagging man-boobs and copious love handles.

#11 Rupert Grint aka Ron Weasley. Rupert makes us all feel a bit bet-ter about that awkward elementary school picture in the back of the closet.

#10 Laurence Fishburne. If you’re like me, and you’re stuck with gap teeth because you never got braces, then you look up to Laurence Fish-burne. Because who says you have to have perfect teeth, anyway?

#9 Rhea Perlman. Kudos to Rhea Perlman for bringing bad hair days out of the closet. Next time you feel ugly because your hair gets frizzy, you’re hit with some rain hair, or it’s

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dandru! season and you’re calling for snow, just remember that Rhea Perl-man had a bad hair decade. So you’ll be fine.

#8 Benecio Del Toro. When you wake up sore and groggy at noon on a Saturday with a splitting hangover and big, black bags under your eyes, just look in the mirror and say “This face could win an Academy Award.” Thanks, Benecio.

#7 Danny Devito. How many people shave their entire head the moment they start going bald? It’s like they’re saying “What? Who’s going bald? Not me, I’m just suddenly into shaving my head every day, that’s all.” It’s so common that Danny Devito deserves a big high ten for embracing the chrome dome. Also, he is short.

#6 Ron Perlman. Getting cast as Hellboy and The Beast in Beauty and the Beast is a bit of a mixed bless-ing. On one hand, hey, great gigs. But on the other hand, you’re playing a

beast and a giant, red superhero. It’s only slightly worse than playing The Phantom of The Opera, Ugly Betty, Charlize Theron in Monster, or Darth Vader when he takes o! his mask. So kudos to Ron for taking on some brave roles. You teach us courage.

#5 Anne Ramsey. Guess there was a reason they threw this momma from the train.#4 Paris Hilton. Next time you fall asleep in the tan-ning bed, or take a little nap with your head in a sinkful of Clorox, just relax. Don’t even wor-ry about it. It’s not a big deal.

#3 Phillip Seymour Ho!man. Ever grow one of those nasty, shaggy, out

of control beards? The kind that gets soup all over it when you’re eating and scratches your girlfriend’s chin when you kiss? The kind that gets you kicked out of convenience stores and frisked a little extra at airport

security? Well, Phillip Seymour Ho!man is proof that it is possible to have one of those beards and still be success-ful. Good on him.

#2 Steve Buscemi. What a great, great, great, great actor.

#1 Christopher Walken. The greatest

thing about Christopher Walken is that he doesn’t

try to gloss things up, No, he just lets the skunk-hawk

fly up top and makes no attempt to apologize for wrinkles or spots. We can learn a lot from him.

Seriously though, ugly actors make this world a great place. They remind

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us that dreaming big can pay o! and there is some justice in the world, no matter what you look like. Because let’s face it: most of us are a bit in-secure about our bodies. It’s normal to pinch your belly fat, cover up your acne scars, and pluck your unibrow. But ugly actors say “Hey … it’s okay, friend”, because at the end of the day we’re pretty much the same and it doesn’t really matter what you look like.

And for that they are truly

AWESOME!

2. Doing something half-assed at the last minute and getting away with it

#817Ã236,994 Hits

Just look at this adorable little rascal with his tiny puppy paw stuck in the toilet paper roll and all.

AWESOME!

1. Broccoflower#1000Ã487,218 Hits

About two years ago I noticed some-thing funny as I flipped through a grocery store flyer. On the produce page was an ugly, green-looking cau-liflower, with the caption “$2.99! Broccoflower!” It was hilarious. A green cauliflower labelled as a Broc-coflower. The bizarre misfit child from two of nature’s most hideous vegetables. The best part is that peo-ple usually don’t believe me when I mention it and, to top it o!, I’ve nev-er seen it advertised since — like the mutant Broccoflower was shunned by society and has since flown home.

AWESOME!

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