Tour Guide Bob Says: "These Jeans Won't Bind Your Legs!!"

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Now YOU can own the Jeans that Tour-Guide Bob wears.

Action Jeans!

"Get your pair today!"

-Tour-Guide Bob

Me and Neckfat

I know.

"Me and Neckfat" sounds like an Owen Wilson movie or a Bollywood reflective piece starring a bunch of Indian actors.

It's not.

Rather, it's about me and the fat on my neck.

Let me explain.

(sigh) You see, I get tied up in "routine" that does not include daily exercise. Instead I'm hit and miss. I'll be tennis guy for a couple of days per week and then bicycle guy for a couple of days per week. Jump off cliffs every now and then and then maybe I'll climb a mountain.

Never really doing consistent exercise daily, I've been schooled and educated to understand the finer points points of kinesiology and the major differences between anaerobic and aerobic activity and when to use which. I understand how adenosine triphosphate works to provide energy to the human body (see fig. 7.18 (2)) and I know that 3200 calories burnt is equivalent to 1 pound lost on the human frame. I know how 30 minutes a day of aerobic activity working at 65-75% of your maximum heart rate will drastically increase your aerobic capacity and you'll look better doing it. Heck, you'll feel better!

Eat less, exercise more.

I get it.

I just don't do it. Why?

Perhaps my bad knees?

Perhaps I'm pre-occupied?

Perhaps I'm just stinking lazy (ding, ding, ding, ding, "We have a winner!!").

Here's my evil cycle:

• Aerobically exercise 4-5 times a week for 2 months.
• Get diverted from the exercise routine (red balloon flying by, "oh lookie!!)
• Slow down to maybe once a week of aerobic exercise.
• Play basketball or tennis long enough in one day to mash and grind my knees into a bloody pulp.
• Take 3 weeks off to recover while daily ingesting pain-relieving cocktails of Ibuprofen, Naproxen and Midol PM.
• Followed by another 2 weeks of cotton-mouth and general loafing.
• I notice that fat begins to appears around my neck (and other places).
• The neck fat begins to bulge.
• Feel the sweaty bulging neck fat.
• Look at the sweaty bulging neck fat in the mirror (different angles, over and over, all the day long).
• Complain to Wife about neck fat.
• Listen to my dear Wife say, "You look fine! But you you know Hon, you do have the power to get rid of the neck fat."
• Followed by the "????" look from me. ("Do I look fine? Or do I need to have a million dollar surgical neck reduction?")

TIME OUT! This reminds me: 100% of the time while on the way out to the car to go to church, I could be bleeding profusely from one eye socket with a huge Rhode Island sized chocolate milk stain on the white Sunday shirt I'm wearing, mismatched socks (colorblindness), dog hair on my pants and big sweaty bulging neck fat spilling out over my white collar covering the half-windsor knot in my tie (yeah, real attractive) while swearing that I cannot go on because I look horrible.

My wife will stop, tilt her head, look me over from head to toe, bite her lip and then wave a hand and say,

"You look great!"

"????Huh?" "What is that?????"

Back to the cycle:

• After complaining long enough I'll renew my gym membership.
• Aerobically exercise 4-5 times a week for 2 months.
• Get diverted from the routine (red balloon flying by, "oh lookie!!)

Can you hear the carnival music?

And the cycle starts over.

I'm probably on my 27th consecutive cycle and I'm just about to renew my gym membership. But before I do, the advertisement below catches my eye.

"Hey... I guess it could work." I think to myself.

"Plus I'd get a free bleeding bowl (see small print on ad)." Hmmmm, I ponder.

What part of my demented self actually considers this?

Good Colon Test Results = New Lease on Life

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That's right Daily Item readers, my colonoscopy report came back and I passed with flying colors.

My colon gets an A+, +, +, +, +.

As in, my colon is THE model colon of the planet.

As in, mine is the colon others can only strive to be like.

As in, my colon may be chosen as the "poster-colon" of the AMAA.

As in, UCLA would like my colon donated to science when I die.

As in, The Smithsonian would like to borrow it to and take it on tour across America.

Enough, enough of my colon boasting.

These test results have brought me a new jubilant zest for life. Naturally. So in a haste I decided to spring for a new outfit (pictured above). Ruth would not wear hers so I gave it to my sister in-law Wendy who is displaying it proudly (er, thanks Wendy). Nothing could feel better than the exuberance I feel when I wear my terry cloth man suit. You'd be a fool not to join me.

Enjoy!

Comcast vs. Cox

UNIFORMS! That's the major reason why I left Comcast and went to work for Cox.