Shopper Profiling.

I went to Target (pronounced tar-zhə' ) the other day to pick up a few things. One was Alice's birth control prescription. At Target you have to pay for your RX at the RX counter. And at Target you get those little coupons just like at the grocery store. I got a coupon for laundry detergent after buying birth control. I was amused at first but quickly became pretty mad. The coupons you're given are based on what you buy. So here's Target giving out laundry detergent coupons to women. Obviously women need laundry detergent, laundry is obviously womenfolk's work. I was quickly becoming enraged at the audacity.


Then something occurred to me. I was the one actually buying the birth control and I'm the one that does laundry at home.


Well played Target. Well played.

Staying Positive Around Negative People

Over the last year I've been working on keeping a Positive Mental Attitude (pma). Its been, at best, a great way to live and, at worst, a constant struggle that has at times made me want to start drinking again.
The hardest part is, obviously, other people. I find that most people are, on the whole, nice and respond in the same manner as I treat them. A few are fucking assholes. How do you deal with assholes and keep a pma? I mean it's hard to keep pma when fantasizing about beating their brains in with a 5lb can of beans.
I guess the best thing to do is avoid them altogether. Just cut them out of ones life. I've done this without even realizing it. There's a few people that I no longer talk to or hang out with and haven't done so for years. People that bring me down or are so bent on creating unnecessary drama and conflict that their friendship was simply not worth the effort. So a fair number of folks got cut from the friend list. But what to do about people that one can't just flip the bird to and hit the eject button? There are co-workers, family members and others too close in one way or another that can't just be left to stew in their own putrescence. This is where I am. Trying desperately to maintain my stoke and not get caught up in the bullshit.
I guess the answer is the same as its always been. Treat everyone how you wish to be treated and never expect to be treated the same. Expectation is the root of unhappiness. Buddha taught this and it stands true now. If I expect people to treat me the way I want them to and they don't, I get upset.
So I have to learn to let go of the desire to be treated the way I feel I deserve. Fair? No. But that right there is the problem. I feel its not fair. If I can learn to let go of the idea of being treated in a way I feel is "fair", I can let other people do what they will and stay stoked.
So basically, no body gives a flying fuck about the way they treat me and it doesn't matter how I feel, so I may as well choose to be happy. And there's the Zen in my stoke.

Propper Football

My name is Gavin and I'm a football fan. Well, Proper Football. The kind that's played with a ball and your feet. Not the American version that's played with a misshapen egg and your hands. From here on out that sport will be known as "Throwball".
Football is a sport of men. Throwball is a sport of boys. Strong words I know but let's look at them both.


The game of throwball is all about scoring. Just getting to the goal as fast and as often as possible. Just like boys in High School. No class, no play, no joy. Just grunting away at work. Down and dirty to the goal and then trying like hell to do it again. And again. And again. Each time as quick and hard as the first.
Football is about play. Its a dance. Its a build up. Chances taken and often times missed. Pure joy to watch and to play. The fun is in the play. Just like a seduction. The act of play is the joy. Getting to the goal is, of course, the whole point but what fun is getting something not earned? Why try for a win when the journey is so much less fun than the goal?
People tell me Football is boring. Well, Americans tell me it's boring. I think they fail to see the beauty in the play itself. We Americans seem to thrive on immediacy. It shows in a lot of ways (drive through fast food comes to mind). But if we could learn to enjoy the journey as much as the destination, I think we'd start to understand the world better. Besides, Football takes 90 minutes to play a 90 minute game. Throwball takes 3 God damned hours to play a 60 minute game. You want to talk about boring? Try watching a bunch of rednecks drive in fucking circles for 8 hours. People around here bitch to no end about traffic and there they are, every weekend, paying actual money to watch a bunch of middle school washouts drive around in traffic. (How the hell did this get popular? That right there is marketing genius.)

Footballers get called pussies a lot. I'll admit there's a lot of diving and theatrics that the game would be better without but I would like to see throwball players run flat out for 90 minutes every week. A throwball season is what? 16 games? One a week? Footballers in most leagues play 19 other teams. Twice. One home and one away. At least once a week. And most leagues play several competitions at once. So they're actually playing twice a week. And say what you will about Magic Spray (tm) but I've yet to see oxygen on the sideline of a football match. But every time some guy makes a 50 yard run in throwball, there he is sucking down O2 like a hippy on a bong at a Phish show.
Someone at work said they'd watch football if it was a rougher sport. Well, I'm not one bit sorry to say to you pal, the whole rest of the world likes it just fine the way it is. Football is doing just fine without your viewership and I suspect it will continue to do just fine without you. Its a shame, though, that you can't find the beauty inherent in the game. But I promise that when you grow up, and your balls finally drop, it will be here for you to enjoy.

*as a side note not directly related to this post, I got called gay the other day because I said watching Messi play was like watching poetry. I have two things to say about this. First, fuck you dude, it's true. And second, sorry buddy, even if I was gay, I'm way out of your league.