She Dragon.

There was this girl the other day, on campus, who had an extreme amount of eyeshadow. It was so bright, that I almost mistook her face for a neon sign. Too much of a good thing can be bad, and in this case, it was. She had the Dragon eyes; which is a red flag. Initially, she might seem appealing, but when you dig deeper, you know there is a story to be told. As in our case, Shrek provides the story, doctrine, and principle of the 'She Dragon'.

"Dragon is never given a proper name in the [Shrek] films. Her fire can melt metal in seconds, such as Prince Charming's sword in the third film. She has a taste for knights, her favorite dish. She even has a recipe book for preparing them for dinner. In the first film, Dragon is charged with guarding Princess Fiona in her isolated castle, and is therefore initially seen by Shrek and Donkey as an antagonist. While Shrek tries to rescue the princess, Donkey finds himself at the mercy of Dragon. However, in terror, he successfully, but unintentionally, wins her over. Shrek and Donkey manage to escape with Fiona, leaving Dragon behind. Dragon returns later in the film, having escaped the volanic keep, and reunites with Donkey. She flies him and Shrek to Duloc to prevent Fiona marrying Lord Farquaad, whom she later eats. Dragon and Donkey begin a relationship, and at the end of the film, when Shrek and Fiona get married, Fiona tosses her bouquet and Dragon catches it. She looks over at Donkey, who then looks at Shrek with surprise and slight terror. After Shrek nods to Donkey, giving them his blessing, Donkey accepts Dragon as his mate," (taken from Wikipedia). Then they make some kind of ugly flying jackass. The end.

Women, with dragon eyes, are like the dragon. Initially, violent, even willing to murder. Which can be attractive, even fun, I guess. Somehow, in their insanity, the dragon woman will fall in love with you. However, you did nothing to promote that feeling, nor did you reciprocate that feeling. You were merely interested. You are forced, not by the laws of nature or love, rather the laws of submission, to give into them. If you do not, they will eat you; they love eating people. In the end, you will make ugly looking babies. 

When you see a woman with dragon eyes, you become interested. When you become interested, you say too much. When you say too much, you get into trouble. When you get into trouble, you get end up in a commitment. When you have a commitment, you make rash decisions. And when you make rash decisions, you wake up to an ugly baby. Stop making rash decisions. Don't look at women with dragon eyes.

NOTE: I do not have any real experience in this field. But I know a many men who have fallen to this con. Thanks to their experiences, I have dodged that bullet. Her eyes tell the story. And she either has F.P. or the murder gene, for sure.

Pfffffttttt

I wished I had a super cool name. One that has a real kick to it, like Roberto Luongo, Mason McGinnis, or Xavier Carter. I wished that until I watched the documentary "Freakonomics". They did this study that showed that the more unique your name is or culturally charged, the less likely you'll get a job. People are racist. So in essence, having the most dull, boring name, is the best option.

I have decided that my first boy will be Michael or Douglas. How American does Doug sound? My daughter, Leslie, a total mothers name. Then, to test if this theory is true, I will name my son Ravi and my next daughter imanotwhite. purfect.

Where in the world did LeBron come from? Bryan? Lebryan? Bryan's nickname was Bron?

"You can feel the emotion..."

If you have listened to Reggie Miller commentate on a game, then you'll agree with me that you do not have to be consistent or good, to be an announcer. Look at Madden, you don't even have to be smart. What does it really take to be a sports broadcaster, cause from where I am sitting, all you have to do is play professionally. I haven't really noticed how bad Miller is in the NBA games, cause I am looking forward to the halftime show with Chuck (who in his own cute way is a complete fool), and Kobe is playing like a fiend. ESPN announcers are different, at least the ones who are running the Sportcenter show. Remember that reality TV show, where people tried out to be a ESPN anchor. That showed how difficult it really is to read the sports updates and be clever. Reading a teleprompter and sounding original is a task all on its own. ESPN anchors are clever, but most of them have never played a sport beyond high school, and to be honest, I think that is an advantage. Just because an individual played or coached at the next level, doesn't guarantee that they will be coherent on air: Bob Knight, Bill Walton, Sheryl Miler. They should team up ESPN boys with with Marv or Kenny. Going back to Reggie.

He is announcing the BYU game, (this is the most recent example I can think of) and in the first quarter he says, with his nasally voice, that a high tempo game would be an advantage for Florida.... Hold on. Doesn't Florida outsize BYU by a bazillion inches? A half court game is definitely in BYU's favor... No. That isn't how they have been playing all year. These boys run-n-gun. In the second half Miller rescinds his previous statement and says that a high tempo game would be an advantage for BYU. Duh, winning. His critic of Jimmer was fabulous. "He has got to get to the hoop, get in rhythm, and then get back to his shot. Just like I used to do. I was so damned good." (Millers head grew four inches as he talked about himself) Jimmer did what Reggie said,  then he started shooting again. He was taking the same stupid shots he has been taking ALL year and Reggie says, "These are not good looks." Reggie, this is his game. That is how the kid plays. Watch some highlights. Look at his stats.... Then when James F. buries a deep three to tie the game up, Miller loves it.

Coming outta nowhere, ADD moment: Then you have Craig Sager. Who is this clown? That is my only question. Then I will know why, when, how, and where.

Diametrically opposite is Verne Lundquist. The guy is a master. I remember listening to him every Saturday morning call SEC football games. He would could bring more color to a play then HD or a replay. He has the voice, emotion, everything you could want. You enjoy listening to him, you're not going to look for the mute button on the remote. Plus he has been on some movies. The only movie Reggie has been on is when Michael Jordan said, ""It's like chicken-fighting with a woman. His game is all this flopping-type thing. He weighs only 185 pounds, so you have to be careful, don't touch him, or it's a foul. On offense I use all my 215 pounds and just move him out. But he has his hands on you all the time, like a woman holding your waist. I just want to beat his hands off because it's illegal. It irritates me."

I have a feeling that the final four will have some fantastic commentating, if Miller isn't there. I've had enough of it. If Miller announces, I am going to e-mail CBS, NCAA, and TNT, and tell them that he has to go. I will mock him the entire game. Reggie is going to hear from me in some way. He should not announce the final four or championship games.

Is it really?

Within a matter of fifteen minutes the other day I heard four different people say, "... the greatest thing since sliced bread." That got me thinking. What is so great about sliced bread? What is so hard about taking out a knife and cutting a slice? -- The slices won't be uniform from cut to cut. People will have to actually cut the bread, which takes entirely too long, plus they might cut themselves.

As a people, we need to resist the urge to say this, unless, we genuinely mean it. Take this time, right now, to think... pause, and ask yourself, is sliced bread really the greatest idea or invention (if we can even call it that, cause it was more or less discovered, right?) to happen? I mean, it might be compared to flowers or something else. I can think of a copious amount of ideas that are better than sliced bread. Once, I had an idea to build a potato gun, and I did it. That day is still better than sliced bread. Who came up with the idea to put headlights on a car; way better than sliced bread. What about the idea of non smoking areas? Or bidets? Yeah, we can all agree on that.

-- But David, you are forgetting, that said statement above is only referring to the years proceeding the invention of sliced bread. Forget the printing press, gunpowder, fire, wheels, and ice cream.

Taken from Primermagazine.com: In 1912, after eons of non-sliced whole grain terror, Otto Rohwedder of Iowa devised a machine with no purpose other than to slice bread. Unfortunately, soon after the prototype’s creation, the contraption – which, in its first iteration, could only handle one loaf at a time – perished in a fire. Despite this setback, Otto realized his dream and the dream of sandwich enthusiasts everywhere of a fully operational, multi-loaf bread-slicing apparatus in 1928 (don’t laugh, stuff took a long time, back then).

The first commercial application of Otto’s eventual handiwork took place in July of 1928, when the Chillicothe Baking Company of Missouri unveiled “Kleen Maid Sliced Bread.” This initial foray into the market was an expected success.

Otto’s suddenly popular and effective invention marked the beginning of an innovative period (additional slicing machines were built and sold to smaller companies following the Chillicothe effort) that culminated in 1930 when a newly national food brand called Wonder Bread marketed sliced bread across America; the Wonder ad campaigns are credited with the proliferation of the expression “the greatest thing since sliced bread.

Lets take a look at a timeline of inventions after 1930 till 1950, that are worth mentioning:

*1934 Monopoly. Tape Recorder.
*1937 Jet Engine.
*1939 Electron Microscope.
*1940 Color Television.
*1946 Microwave.
*1948 Velcro. Juke Box.
*1950 Credit Card.
So next time say, "Michael Vick is the greatest thing since the jet engine, which can transport me across the country is about 6 hours."

And the Categories are...

First of all, Happy Thanksgiving. Be grateful, you capitalistic pig.

Red, Blue, Yellow, White. Four in all. Four simple colors that define the personality type of every single human being on this planet. Dr. Taylor Hartman, the guy who came up with this book, theorizes that if we understand others personalities and our own, we can have more substantial relationships. I have not completed the book, I have glanced over most of it, mostly reading the sections about my personality type. I just find it interesting that we have to put labels on things. For whatever reason it makes us feel more comfortable. It is practical. I mean, imagine going into a store and none of the aisles are labeled, uh annoying. But the problem is when we categorize people. Put them into a box and say, "This is you. You are good at x,y,z, however, you are not good at a,b,c." Sometimes the category that Joe Shmoe was put into was right, spot on, however, there are obviously exceptions.

I guess what really got me thinking about this is the crisis of relationship labels. The dreaded D.T.R. This talk will make or break whatever kind of thing is going on. This is the point of no return. As soon as you say or hear, "So, what are we?" there is NO going back. Don't even try to grab a Twix, it is just too late. I do it. I wanna know. I guess that is part of human nature, curiosity? -- but curiosity killed the cat. So should I really even ask or talk about it? Cause how dumb does this sound:
About a year ago, maybe more, I am dating this girl. I like her a lot. I ask her, "Do you want to be exclusive?" As soon as I said that I felt this stinging sensation in my mouth and felt brain cells die inside my head. I found out that day that there is such a thing as a dumb question, and when you ask dumb questions, brain cells die. She says,"Like be official?" with a tone saying, 'Oh my gosh, you are like so middle school.' *AWKWARD PAUSE* I am trying to come up with something sweet/cute/smart, but nothing is coming. "Yeah...." I said. "Of course David" with a snide tone, as if I said that her choice in toilet paper was poor.

I felt from that day forward that it was dangerous to put a label on any kind of a relationship. If I call you to play basketball, we are friends. Just assume. If you are questioning it, don't. My actions let you know where I stand.

There are two types of people in this world, men and women.

Hello My Name Is__________

Names are important. All rappers want you to know there names. "My name is.. wha.. my name is... chica chica..". Professional athletes let you know their names quickly after they make a sweet play. In ancient times, they believed if you had the name of another you had power of them. They protected their names. Your name was more important than your life. Take for instance Odyssous in the Odyssey, he only gave out his name when it was absolutely necessary. In medieval times your name meant everything. Names are extremely symbolic and important in the scriptures. Our very salvation relies upon names.

David means beloved, coming from the Hebrew language. It is a very common name. I love it though. It is strong and gives me a sense of belonging. I think I look like a David, then again, why wouldn't I?

My beef is when someone instantly calls me Dave or Hyde (I realize that by posting this could lead to some serious hazing, but so what, its a blog). I hate that name. No, what I mean to say is that I hate when acquaintances or people that aren't really friends call me Dave. It is such a familiar term. I don't mind people close to me calling me Dave. I love it. Here is what really gets me going; someone asks my name, I say 'David', and they instantly call me Dave. Just like that, they jumped through the friendship fire and trust octagon. I sometimes correct them, I have even had people ask me which I prefer, but at the end of it all I am still stuck with Dave. Dave. HA!

Dave sounds like a grease monkey. A dude who would crush cans on his head like they were made of styrofoam. Dave sounds like he is a bartender, ready to eat his liver on que. He is gruff, cusses like a sailor, and is too crazy for anyone to be around over the weekend. On the other side of the coin, Dave is the type of guy who finishes last, he is the nice guy. And nice guys always finish last. Oh, Dave. There is no in between with Dave, he is either a meat head or a sissy. Just add an i after the v and you have a first class pansy. Dave is the friend who is always there, mainly cause he has no where else to go.

My mother named me David for a reason. It could be worse, one of my math tutors called me Sam. Eww. Sam? Me? Never. David. Call me Vook in the pants, hands in the pants, 5'10", whatever. Just do not assume you and I are close enough that you can call me Dave. You'll know when. Trust me. It will feel right. The hair on my neck won't bristle and your spleen won't feel like it is about to burst.

D.M.G.R.H