I’m sure we can all remember from high school English class being forced to read the William Golding “classic” novel Lord of the Flies.  I use the term classic loosely because I found the book boring, written in a style that was not Brian friendly, and totally inapplicable to my daily life.  When was I ever going to be a choirboy stranded on a jungle island with only a fat friend and a conch shell to get me by?  Like I said, totally irrelevant. 

As it turns out, all that is required for Lord of the Flies to come to fruition is an event to take away the modern conveniences of civilization that we have become so dependent upon.  That event came to the greater Washington DC metro area this weekend in the form of a blizzard that left everything blanketed under roughly 16 inches of snow.  I haven’t seen something 16 inches high since… I digress.  Bottom line is that the snow closed stores, eliminated power for many, made traveling near impossible and left everyone cold.

I was certain conditions would be poor, but nonetheless I braved the wintry conditions to see Avatar 3D rather than remain inside for an entire day.  After clearing my car of its snow encased tomb, I hit the road for the movie theater.  There was no sign that a plow had even intended to drive down any of the streets in Arlington County.  The real sign of civil decomposition were drivers and pedestrians disobeying all traffic signals and evading all attempts of common courtesy.  Where was everyone going amidst this blizzard?  To CVS obviously to stock up on milk, bread and plastic shovels.  How do I know this?  Well those were the only three items every person was holding high in the air as they parading across US-1 without much concern for me nearly slaughtering them with my car.

There was a cavalcade of events that happened directly as a result of the heavy snow that caused society to descend into the anarchy seen in Lord of the Flies.  First, many of the drivers, and pedestrians, are from countries were it doesn’t snow.  I’m sure Mexico, South America, the Middle East and the Serengeti don’t see too much snow over the course of a century.  When you have never seen snow before, it is really easy to panic and ruin things for the rest of us.  It was the only time in my life where I was actually sad there weren’t more Canadians around.

Second, people suffer from severe panic attacks at the thought of a debilitating storm.  There is always a run on milk, bread and canned food items.  I’m not sure what made those items so valuable, but I’m pretty sure that I could eventually make my way to some place to get a slice of pizza.  Third, people do not understand the laws of friction.  When there is a substance on the road, it will either increase or decrease the friction of the asphalt.  In the case of snow, friction decreases, meaning that it is hard to slow down or change direction suddenly.  Please remember this concept when attempting to drive.

And finally, remember the concept of momentum.  Sometimes it is a good thing and sometimes it is a bad thing, but it is always p = mv (momentum = mass x velocity).  When you are trying to get through deep snow in a regular sedan, you want it on your side.  When you are trying to come to a stop before Ted Kennedying a passenger or pedestrian, it works against you.  Nothing makes a driver look more ridiculous in the snow than their inability to understand the concept of momentum.  When you read something like this http://washingtondc.craigslist.org/mld/mis/1517279200.html you realize just how difficult a concept it is to grasp.  “Wait, you mean if I start back at the bottom of the hill and build up some momentum that I might be able to reach the top?  We don’t learn stuff like that in California.”  Good luck if you ever get caught in a mudslide lady.  What else have they not taught you?

In conclusion, I would like to make my least favorite high school English teacher, Ms. Moore, proud by relating this all back to LOTF.  In this real-life version I played the role of Ralph, the well-meaning boy who had grand ideas for order and civility but cut some corners when he had to.  Piggy was the car that let every damn pedestrian cross in front of him even though it was clearly his turn to drive.  My car, Julio, was the conch.  He brought order back to the situation with his horn and aggressive driving.  The thousand Jack’s were the fools trampling over one another to get to CVS and other convenience stores to collect their food.  The Lord of the Flies, the manifestation of lawlessness and evil, could be found on the face of every person walking on the street and every driver not in my car.

.Bonus critique by Ms Moore:

I found your writing to be dreadful and dearth of any relevant references to William Golding’s magnificent work.  The hubris you possess in your analytical skills is unfounded and delusional at best.  I weep for your readers and any mistaken enough to assume you have profound knowledge of literature.  Yes, I am aware that my Amazonian appearance is frightening to students, my natural hair color can always be seen at my part and my surname rhymes with “whore.”....

The popular saying goes that “everything is bigger in Texas.”  The boots, the belt buckles, the hats, the waistbands and the gun collections are all bigger in Texas than most anywhere this side of al Queda on a Toby Keith kick.  While those are endearing plus size traits, after a visit to Austin, TX I have learned that bigger isn’t always better.  I have been telling that to the ladies for years, but now I finally have the proof I have been looking for.  Ladies and gentlemen, pimps and bottom bitches, I present to you, When Bigger Isn’t Better, Austin Style….

Large hobos.  I had always heard that Los Angeles was the homeless capital of the world, but I would like to put my vote in Austin’s favor.  The weather is great, the people are friendly, and the college students are naïve and playing with house (daddy’s) money.  It’s the perfect storm.  The only thing worse than a hobo hassling you to pimp his ride is 50 hobos simultaneously asking you.  I have a tip for the homeless of the world…. Credit card readers!  Cash is so 2000 and late, but card readers are totally 2009.  You could garner a lot more charity if people could just charge their contributions to your alcoholism and put off paying it for 30 days.

Big bad bikes.  Not motorcycles, but rather bicycles.  These damn things were everywhere.  If I haven’t written about it before, I should have.  I hate cyclists.  My feelings were put into words on Google’s recent thoughts of the day: “When I am in a car, I hate pedestrians.  When I am walking, I hate motorists.  But I am pretty sure that no matter what my mode of transportation I always hate cyclists.”  Lance Armstrong really started an epidemic in Austin with all those wannabe (gratuitous Spice Girls reference of the day) bikers.  Just got zig-a-zig-ahh already. 

I was prrreased as punch to see one 70 year old man take matters into his own hands.  He decided to use his pickup truck to help solve the problem.  After pausing at a stop sign, this man proceeded to take a right turn, without paying much attention to a cyclist, sans helmet, speeding towards him.  Seeing the truck pull out the cyclist yelled, “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH…. continues for literally 15 seconds… HHHHHHH!!!” before slamming into the side of the truck.  I was hoping the police would be called so I could testify that the cyclist was out of control.

Huge hippies.  What happened to the good old days when the South was conservative as shit and didn’t put up with liberals frolicking around their parts.  I’ve seen Texans electrocute people for such brazen political beliefs.  Whatever the cause, Austin apparently has not kept up this very reasonable practice and is OVERRUN with hippies.  You can’t get away from these people.  If they aren’t playing acoustic guitar very poorly, or pretending to know how bongos are supposed to sound, they are trying to sell you their handmade hemp jewelry or are women refusing to shave their legs.  Say you see a young girl walking with a guy down the street.  This isn’t just a normal girl, she’s a hippie.  The first give-away that she has some serious rebellious issues is her died coral hair.  You then scan the rest of her to see just how deep her daddy issues are when you come to her calves, which look like mine at the age of 15.  Yaowza!  Girl this isn’t survivor, razors are everywhere.

Bevel of bats.  Not since The Dark Knight have I seen such a love affair with bats.  Austin, TX is home to the world’s largest urban bat colony for roughly 7 months out of the year.  That means that shortly after dusk on most nights, a swarm of 1.6 million bats flies out from under a bridge in Austin in search of food.  What does it say about a culture that promotes the viewing and cheering on of millions of flying rodents?  In Washington DC we attempt to eradicate rodents for their diseases.  In Texas they watch them and sell light swords and glo-stix to praise their filth.  Forget swine flu, the governor should wise up and order an extra supply of rabbis vaccinations for when these flying rats get the taste for human flesh.

Enormous Eloquence.  Nothing speaks volumes about a state and/or city than those who are incapable of speaking.  While out for some delicious Texas barbeque, I was serenaded by a folk band that had a penchant for generating words their tightly blue-jeaned behinds.  The word of the evening was “dagnabbit.”  For example, and I quote, “When your cattle gets outta the fence, dagnabbit.”  Or maybe the epic, again I quote, “When your pickup breaks down on the side of the road, dagnabbit.” 

I can only imagine that it is an interesting twist on “gosh darnit,” but I could be wrong.  Other than shear brazen word creation, watch the locals’ reaction to this ground-breaking word was amazing.  One woman was moved to extend personal invitations to her house to celebrate.  I shit you not, this woman came directly up to me and asked, “Do you want to come to my house?”  I was either about to be ridden like a mechanical bull or Natalie Hallowayed…

In Conclusion.  In fact, the only thing that isn’t bigger in Texas are their “mountains.”  Austin is home of the very impressive Mount Bonnell.  Mount Bonnell stands a very impressive 780 ft. above sea level and is a major area attraction.  This is highly comical since the generally accepted minimum height of a mountain is 2000 ft. about sea level (http://www.newton.dep.anl.gov/askasci/env99/env99359.htm).  I would like a motion to remain the site Bonnell Hill and demote it to a minor attraction.  If Texas were your cheek, “Mount Bonnell” would be nothing more than a small pimple.

The hot story circulating the E! network and tabloids nationwide may have more impact on my future prospects than anything else they have publicized this decade.  Jessica Simpson has reportedly latched herself onto a new host body, that of Colt Brennan.  For those who are unaware, Colt Brennan is a graduate of the University of Hawaii and now resides as the third string quarterback for the Washington Redskins.  That’s right!  Jessica will have to come to the nation’s capital to spend time with her beau. 

I will first state that I am a big Jessica fan, but let’s take a little closer look at the course she has chartered during the romantic portion of her life.  She started out with her long-time boyfriend and future husband Nick Lachey.  I think America really liked Nick as he was good looking, mildly talented and seemingly a nice guy.  The dude was a heart throb for countless ladies (and myself) for a good seven year period from the late 90s to early 00s.  When the marriage ended, Jessica shacked up with Dallas Cowboys starting quarterback, Tony Romo.  Tony was a semi-talented athlete, a complete moron, but intellectually on par with Jessica.  It seemed like that should have worked.  However, Jessica and Tony parted ways and she now finds herself with Colt.

I’m going to get “all engineer on you” here and make the following equation/statement:

Nick Lachey  >  Tony Romo  >  Brian Mackey  >  Colt Brennan  >  Homeless Man....

That’s right ladies and gentlemen, Jessica has now slummed to the point where she is dating someone who is a lesser package than I am.  Shhh, does anyone else hear that?  That’s the sound of opportunity knocking.  If I play my cards right, I could snatch this girl right out from under Colt’s armpit, like the black Irish Brad Pitt.  I’m not going to say that I am better in all aspects than Colt Brennan, but I certainly have his number in a few key areas.  Let’s face it, I’m a first string engineer.  There are a minimum of 60 other people who can quarterback better than he can. 

The bottom line is that I’m going to make a play for Jessica.  Not only is she easy on the eyes (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ReXt4l9r2pA) and filthy rich, but I think she is simple-minded enough that I could probably fool her into Tony Danzaing with me.  I see our initial conversation going this way:

Step 1, build her up:....

Brian Mackey – Hey!  Wow, you’re Jessica Simpson.  I can’t believe I ran into you here, in Georgetown of all places.  I’m Brian.  ::offers handshake::

Jessica Simpson – Hi.  Nice to meet you

BM – I must say, you are an incredibly gifted artist.  Your vocal range is amazing

JS – Aww, that’s so sweet of you to say.

BM – Here let me help you with your bags.  ::grabs shopping bags from her hands::  I must admit, I’m a little intimidated here.  You are much more beautiful in person than your pictures give you credit for.

JS – Aren’t you sweet?  Thanks.

Step 2, relate to her:

BM – So was it just me, or was high school like the hardest thing ever?

JS – Oh my GOD yes!  If I didn’t have my music, I don’t know what I would have done.  

BM – I’m sure glad you started making music.  It gives me something to sing in the shower and car.

JS – Oh yeah?  I love to sing in the shower!  It’s only like my favorite thing ever!

BM – I don’t know, it might be a close third for me behind giving to charity and shopping.

JS – You are so right!!!  I don’t know what I would do without my credit cards!  But you are right; it’s always good to give a something back to the world that has given you so much.

BM – I agree.  Most of my volunteer work is dealing with children, puppies and kittens.  I feel they all deserve the best chance to have a great life.  I only hope that the meager 25 hours of week I volunteer is enough to have a positive influence.

JS – I wish I had that much time to help others.  I LOVE puppies!  You are like the sweetest guy ever.

Step 3, impress her:

BM – Nah, I’m just trying to do my part.  I would give up more of my time if I could, but my job just takes up too much of my time.

JS – Oh I hate when that happens.  What do you do?

BM – I’m an engineer actually.  I work for NASA.

JS – REALLY!?!?!  Oh my God that is SO cool!  You must be sooo smart.

BM – Nah I’m about average.  I probably got lucky more than anything else to land this job.  If I were smarter they would probably let me fly the space shuttle more often, but right now they keep letting other people have their turn.

JS – Wait a sec, you have been to SPACE!?!?!  Wow, really the space shuttle!?!?!  You weren’t on one of those ones that exploded were you?  That would be so sad.

BM - ::confused slightly::  Uh, no.  My shuttle made it home.  I made sure I landed it to get everyone home safely.  It’s a lot of responsibility, but I couldn’t let them, or America down.

JS – Wow.  ::gushes::  I really wish I could go to space, but I’m just not that brave.  You must be sooo brave!

BM – Well, I wouldn’t call it that.  I’m just doing what I can for my country.  It’s an important job, so who better than me?

Step 4, neg her (bring her back down to earth):

BM – But enough about me, what’s it like to sing in front of thousands of screaming fans?

JS – Oh it is SUCH a rush!  To know that so many people appreciate my music and want to see me… it’s a great feeling!

BM – I’m sure.  You are right next to Kelly Clarkson in my book of Texas-born musicians.

JS - ::slightly miffed::  Yeah.  She is talented.

BM – She’s just got a presence about her and always seems to make music that upbeat and catchy enough for America to fall in love with.  You have a similar talent.

JS – Thanks.

BM – And neither one of you can dance, so you have more in common than you probably realize.

JS – Uh… ::pouting:: I can dance a little bit.

Step 5, bring her back up and close the deal:

BM – I have complete faith in you to accomplish whatever your heart desires.  I’m sure with the right instructor you could become an incredible dancer.

JS – I have been working on it.  I’m sure you’re right.

BM – I don’t want to see too forward, but I actually teach salsa dance at a gym nearby.  I would be more than happy to work with you sometime.  Free of charge of course because you are Jessica Simpson.

JS – Wow.  That would be amazing.  What can’t you do?

BM – Still working on flying without my space shuttle, but that could be a while.  But seriously, you should come by my apartment this weekend for a lesson.  I’d invite you to the gym, but you know how everyone would react if you were there.

JS – Gosh I know!  I have a lot of fans!

BM – So why don’t you come over around 9pm?  I’ll have some sangria made and we can start working out these hips.

JS – That sounds so great!  I’m so glad I ran into you!  What’s your number???

And there you have it.  Game, set and match to Brian Mackey.  With those five steps executed to perfection, most “simple” celebrities can be putty in your hands.  These would be followed by a few more steps when she actually came over: 6) show her a Photoshopped picture of me flying the space shuttle 7) get her loaded on sangria, 8) explain that salsa is a dance of seduction and few articles of clothing, 9) make sweet love, 10) text all my friends “BONE CITY,” 11) take pictures of her while she is asleep.

It has been a few months now since we all saw former President George W. Bush standing awkwardly on the steps of the capitol, waiting for a helicopter to fly him to Andrews Air Force Base.  He stood there, confused as ever, trying to understand why Barack Obama would not laugh at any of his zingers.  He kept throwing them out there, but the new president just stood and counted down the seconds until ole George would board that chopper, make an awkward wave and fly off into irrelevance. 

Luckily for you all, George has been a fan of mine ever since we did a karaoke duet to Air Supply – All Out of Love.  I basically carried him.   Anyway, through our mutual love of 80s power ballads a sophisticated friendship began.  As a product of that sophistication, George thought I would be the perfect person to carry out his first phone interview since leaving office and returning to Texas.  We join the telephone call already in progress:

GW - … and I swear her finger went right in my ass.

BM – Wow Mr. President.  That is quite the tale.

GW – Heh.  You had better believe it.  I never looked at the grocery store the same again.

BM – So George, what have you been doing to keep busy these last few weeks?

GW – Whelp, you would not believe the demands on Big Boi George’s time.  I th-th-thought this whole presidency gig was time consuming, but running the house back here in T-T-Texas is a chore.  I spend all day making sure the help cleans everything like I asked, then all night watching Friends reruns. 

BM – What Friends character do you feel you most relate to?  I see you as a Joey.

GW – Heh.  Why does everyone always t-t-tell me that?  Laura is always like, “George, why don’t you turn off the baseball game and take a walk with me around the ranch?”  I mean holy hell.  Can’t a guy sit back with a MGD and watch the T-T-Texas Rangers beat the tarnation out of the AL West?  I c-c-come off a hard day chasing Lupita around the house and I just want a beer and a ballgame.  Women, huh?  Ya can’t live with them AND they make you pee sittin’ down like.

BM – If you were anyone else, I would be confused, but coming from you that makes total sense.  Now that we know what you are up to now, what do you miss most about the presidency?

GW – Th-th-there ain’t much I miss.  Being the president is a lot like being a space alien, you mean well but e’eryone th-th-thinks you got all these evil motorives.  It was always one thing after the next.  If I wasn’t getting heat for bombin’ the tar outta somebody, I’m hearin’ it for not listenin’ to the voice of Amurica.  I know what Amurica was sayin’.  Th-they said it twice each t-t-time they elected me.

BM – Commander of the Free World seems to carry a heavy burden in name, let alone the actual duties of the position.  What word of…. Mr. President?  George?  What’s so funny?

GW – heh.  Heh.  Heh.  Yall really ha-had me goin’ there Brian.  Heh.  Heh.  Heh.  Dooties, that’s a funny word.  Heh. 

BM – Ah yes, the DUTIES of a president.

GW - ::uncontrollable laughter::

BM – I’ll give you a minute…. What words of advice would you have for our current president, Barack Obama, based on your eight years of experience?

GW – heh.  Don’t say ‘dooties’ in an interview.  Heh.  Heh.  But let’s get serious for a minute; ::wipes hand over face to stop smiles and bring seriousness:: being president is a serious job that is to be taken seriously.  Barack, if you are out there listening, make sure you have the White House chefs make those pigs in a blanket for dinner at least twice a week.  Th-th-there’s just somethin’ about those little guys that makes th-the job a little easier.

BM – Sound advice.  The White House has some renowned chefs that I’m sure can do wonders with conventional dishes.  Was that your favorite meal?

GW – That’s a funny story actually.  When I came into office in 2001, all the staff knew how to prepare were types of fish.  Apparently Bill ate that stuff night ‘n day.  Bein’ from Texas, I’m more of a meat ‘n potatoes kinda guy and leave the fish for the whales.  So I got right in th-th-there and got dem up to speed on some beef ‘n pigs in a blanket.  That was definitely the biggest challenge of my first term.

BM – So 9-11 paled in comparison to the cooking staff conversion from fish to steak?  I mean, you went out on the mound at Yankee Stadium during the World Series, when everyone was still shaken up and fearful of more attacks, and threw a perfect strike to show us that our way of life will go on.  That wasn’t difficult at all?

GW – I bean playin’ ball since I was a kid.  I was the owner of the Rangers for chrissakes.  I think I knew a little about baseball.  Derek Jeter told me before I went out onto the field, “Don’t throw any balls Mr. President.”  I looked him right in the eye and said, “Get me Jessica Biel’s phone numbers and you got yourself a goddam deal!”  Sure enough th-that Jeter fellah got me Jessica’s number and I went out there and just let ‘er rip. 

BM – What became of this Jessica Biel number?

GW – I didn’t really know what to do with it.  I’ve been with Laura so long that I th-th-think that I wouldn’t know what to say to another woman.  I wa-wa-would probably freeze up and stutter like a mo-ron.  I would need a teleprompter.

BM – What do you feel your legacy is as president?

GW – Like a fine Pepsi, I got better with age.  Mmm… I could really use a Pepsi.  People say this is Coke country down here in T-Texas, but damnit all I just want a Pepsi.

BM – Mr. President… your legacy?

GW – Oh right!  Whelp, I think I am a president that will stand the te-te-test of time.  I got in there, made some hard decisions, and stuck to my guns.  People will t-tr-try to say that I was too conservative and ideological and that I set science back 10,000 years and that I couldn’t t-t-tell my ass from a hole in the ground, but that’s just plain wrong.  My ass is located on my body.  My dogs still love me. 

BM – And finally sir, what would I have to do to get a threesome with your daughters?

GW – My girls are free spirits.  I let th-th-them make th-their own decisions.  Hell, Jenna just got married to that clown just year past.  But geesh Brian, if you tried to bone both of them at the same t-t-time, you’d only have to run faster than a bullet because I’d be going for my rifle.

BM – George, as always, it has been an utter pleasure.  Let me know the next time you are back in DC so we can rock out to some Toto.

GW – Willer do! 

There you have it America.  That is a complicatedly simple man.  It’s hard to envision from the script, but GW is a caring man and is completely in love with beef jerky.

Jean-Claude Van Damme Award of Machoism

Jean-Claude is best known for his action movies, dynamite bulge and martial arts abilities.  Known by some as The Muscles from Brussels, his signature move involves performing a split while being suspended in air only be the heels of his feet.  Jesse-Claude Ramcharan succeeded in duplicating this feet on a number of occasions, while failing and falling miserably on a few others.  Because of his ball-busting antics, Jesse shall henceforth be known as the The Trinidadian Twatwrangler.

Jefferson Davis Award of Civil War Losses

Despite being given every advantage in the war (element of surprise, higher ground, ammunition, a fort, etc), the team of Lindsay Moss, Laurie Hoyt and Jenny Poos would end on the losing side of the Gr8t Escape War to Justin Lloyd, Kevin Robocop Langone and Brian Mackey.  Their initial sneak attack at the Battle of the Hot Tub was a precarious defeat.  Firing 6 water balloons at the men in the hot tub, all missed their targets and 5 were retained by the opposing army. 

The ladies retreated inside, turned off all the lights, locked all the doors and launched fire from the top balcony.  Sensing that their fort was not safe, the men left the hot tub and commenced an assault on the house.  Kevin Langone scaled the balcony to open all the doors and before long Lindsay and Laurie were locked in a bedroom, in their underwear while Jenny was in her “super sweet” hiding spot and eventually went to sleep.  The girls ended up wet, cold and the Confederate Army of this war.

Robocop Award of Wall-breaking

Though he did not technically walk through a wall, Kevin Langone walked through a screen door that neither slowed him down nor caused him to flinch.  If he was painted in metallic silver and given a goofy helmet, I’m pretty sure the comparison would be uncanny.  Yay to not picking up the insurance this year Kev-O.  

Hoover Award of Suction

Because I was not privileged enough to witness any hickies or pole slobberings, the award for total suction has to go to Team Snootches.  Team Snootches was so repeatedly decimated in all sports (e.g. flip cup, volleyball), that only a Heather Brooke-like performance could conceivably win this award for someone else.  At one point or another, every girl in the house was to blame for their substandard display of grit, athleticism and social acumen. 

High School Cheerleader Award of Celebratory Jump Hug

When Team Snootches loses in such Pan Am Flight 101 fashion (how about that for your obscure fiery plane crash reference of the day), it is only understandable that Team Dudes would have to celebrate.  The celebration after each and every volleyball dismantling was minor, as those were expected victories.  But when a team of weiner can repeatedly destroy a team of vaj’s on the flip cup tables, my friends you have really accomplished something.  To women, flip cup is the lying of DRANKing games.  I mean it’s something that they are naturally very good at.  Team Dudes, this award was one for the ages.

Michael Phelps Award of Olympia

Team BoozeTang, comprised of Chris Carucci, Christina Lexa, Will McNally, Meredith Empie, Greg Eppley and captained by Laurie Hoyt took home first place honors and the coveted Cup of Glass.  Their strong start in Flip Flop Ring Toss, Flip Cup Pool Relay and the Beer Can Dive allowed them to coast to a world-record finish of 22.5 points, barely edging out the dual second place finishers, Just the Tip and Team CSJO.  Many congratulations are in order and be prepared to defend your Cup of Glass at the next instantiation of the OBX Booze Olympics.

Pablo Picasso Award of Artistry

This is not really a fair award to bestow upon Brian Mackey, as he had a head start.  After all, during his Subway days he was known as The Picasso of Sandwich Artists, but I will bestow this upon him (myself) anyway.  He used a pink volleyball has his brush and Ashley Martin as his canvas.  He considered Boones Farm his inspiration and proceeded to create a masterpiece all over Ashley’s dress immediately following her shower.  Ashley, be thankful you were part of something so magical.

Dirty Vegas Whore Award of Dance

If you have ever traveled to Vegas, you are quite aware that prostitution is legal, the shows prominently display naked bodies and there is a cavalcade of strip clubs.  While dirty whores are involved in all of those establishments, the best of the best perform provocative dance routines at the clubs and in the shows.  For his incredible strip tease/booty dance/chair hop/pelvic thrust, this award really could go nowhere else.

Patrick Swayze Award of Ghost

I don’t care what doubts you all have, Landon and I saw a ghost.  On Monday morning, the cover to the attic lifted in the air, hovered for about three seconds, then closed gently.  Now that either means that there is an Old Man living in our attic, or the house is haunted by the ghost of an old sea hag.  Since I explored the attic personally, and can certify that it was uninhabited, it must have been a ghostly sea hag.  Here’s to you ghostly sea hag; an award in your honor.

Clay Aiken Award of Gayness

This was almost too close to call, but was decided when I caught Laurie’s dog, Macho Hoyt, reading a copy of Glamour Magazine.  I would expect that from Carucci, but not from Macho.  If the Village People every reunite, I think we just found their mascot.  Haaaaaay Macho man.

Globo Gym Award of Fitness

Despite being at the beach and on vacation, Christina Lexa made Ben Stiller proud by going to the local YMCA three times.  Two trips were understandable and due to poor weather.  The third trip because “I was already up” is borderline inexcusable.  Hey Chuck Norris and Christie Brinkley, I have your newest BowFlex success story!

Wright Brothers Award of Aerial Excellence

Being just south of Kitty Hawk, NC and the home of the first flight, this award felt particularly special to the winners: Jenny Poos, Charles Henderson and Brian Mackey.  Not since the Wright Brothers have three people so skillfully mastered the skies.  Rather than a plane, this dynamic trio took to the skies with a kite that nearly reached orbit before being caught on a power line, hovering over the beach house and eventually crashing back to earth into our neighbor’s hot tub.

Cow Award of Bullshit

Charles Henderson started off the week with the bold statement, “I’m going to drink 100 beers!”  Seven days and 23 beers later, he was merely 77 beers short of his goal.  To his lying ass’s credit, if you count his performance before the beach trip on Friday night, he was only short 69 beers. 

Tom Cruise of Cocktails

This award is going to Brian Mackey for his glorious Mexican Powerade creation.  From his time in Cancun, Brian was well aware that the ingredients in Mexican Powerade are tequila, grenadine and Sprite.  Because he was giddy from purchasing Everclear, he decided to replace most of the tequila in the conCOCKtion.  The result was a cough syrup red mess.  Cheers, cockface.

Rachel Ray Award of Meal

There were many fine culinary performances throughout the week including: Christina’s bowtie something, Lindsay’s casserole, Jenny’s breakfast, Brian’s French toast, Meredith’s nachos and Charles’s nothing; but the true iron chefs were Dave Meek and Kristin Igusky for their take on seafood fajitas and pirate cake.  Garrrr matey that was some good eats.

The 1980s Called Award of Sunglasses at Night

Our beach house, Gr8 Escape, was the true winner here.  Not only were there VCR’s in every room, but there were oodles of VHS tapes to use on said VCR’s.  If that was not enough, there was a complete Body By Jake boxed set.  The residents of the house had no choice but to partake one morning in the vigorous workout routine.  The only thing more intense than the burn was the outfits on the tape.

Osama Bin Laden Award of Hatred

After only being at the beach house for a mere three hours, it did not take long for Chris Carucci to become the most despised man in Nags Head, NC.  After cannon balling 5 shots and several beers, he continued his path of destruction on the furniture and eventually on a Woodchuck bottle (assist to Lindsay Moss for supplying the projectile).  Carucci carefully weighed his options and thought that a better home than a trash can for a Woodchuck bottle might be the pool deck three stories below him.  The pool deck agree and promptly spread the Woodchuck love all over itself in many tiny pieces, requiring a massive cleanup effort and a no bare feet rule at the pool.

Tyrone Biggums Award of Addiction

Cocaine is a hell of a drug, but so is Southern Style Iced Tea.  Justin Lloyd picked up what he deemed “an embarrassing iced tea” from Sonic, but then continued to get another one on 80% of the remaining days.  I guess Southerners can sacrifice their values in times of true need.  The real bizarre twist came when Justin was incapable of going to the gym without finishing a 32 oz. iced tea prior to “getting swole.” 

WVU Award of Gross Incompetence

WVU, known for their deeply inbred retardation, is a synonym for gross incompetence.   Apparently the people at Banana Boat have decided to use WVU as the inspiration for their spray-on sunscreen product line.  Take it from me people, spend the extra $1.50 and get the Coppertone that works like a naughty dream sequence.  Regardless of how closely you adhere to the directions, you are bound to end up splotchy, burned and bitter. 

There are a lot of dirty rumors circulating in regards to the swine flu pandemic that is gripping the world.  The truth of the matter is that the media will have you believe that the human race is on the verge of being eradicated by this outbreak, and that brain-dead skank you have for a coworker will try to convince you that we should all be wearing gas masks and staying indoors.  Neither one of these could be further from the truth.  Please allow me to explain exactly how this massive illness came about, how to prevent yourself from contracting it, what to do if you have it and how the world could actually benefit from this.

A Brief History of Swine Flu:

To understand the origins of swine flu, one must first understand pigs, Mexicans and extreme sports.  Mexico was once a Spanish colony and shares more than just their language in common with Spain; they also share a love of extreme sports.  Spaniards is notorious for fighting bulls to the death, but also allowing them to trample over dozens of their citizens every year as people attempt to outrun them.  Creativity is not lost on Mexicans, so they could not merely duplicate the Spanish traditions, but had to enhance it and add their 18 pieces of flair. 

A little known Mexican sport named “ocultar con heces de credo,” was born out of a culture that craved an original form of bullfighting.  Not many white men are aware of its existence, much less understand the rules of the sport.  Luckily for you, mis amigos have informed me of the basics.  A single pig is placed in a sty with 6 naked Mexicans holding only a fork and a steak knife.  The men quickly roll around in the sty which mostly consists of pig droppings to blend in with the surroundings and to confuse the pig into thinking they are merely stool.  The men then approach the hog with the intent to grab some bacon.  Over the next five minutes, each man will attempt to remove as much bacon as possible from the pig, while the pig attempts to remain alive by fleeing the crazy Mexicans.  The person with the most bacon at the end of the five minute period is declared the winner and enjoys bacon-wrapped burritos for dinner, as prepared by the losers.

Apparently rolling around in pig excrement is precisely what it takes to contract swine flu.

How to Avoid Swine Flu:

Doctors and nurses are advising people to “wash their hands” and “not lick hand rails” and “stay away from sick people.”  This is all sound advice, but it doesn’t exactly help you to sleep any easier at night does it?  “So you mean if I wash my hands and don’t lick hand rails I’m safe?  Hey honey, let’s book that trip to Mexico.  I’m feeling good about this one.”  Seems logical right?  WRONG!  We have a greater duty as a nation to prevent our citizens from contracting this 21^st century plague.  We need to call in the air force to start an extensive bombing campaign of Mexico.  Only when all Mexicans are dead can we truly be safe. 

I suggested an extensive bombing campaign of Canada when they tried to sic mad cow disease on us a few years back, but was laughed out of Congress.  Just think how much better off we would be if we were alone on this continent.  All our cows would be sane and all our pigs would remain healthy.  Listen to me Nancy Pelosi, you crazy-eyed Joan Rivers wannabe (Spice Girls reference, HOOO!), just annoy the rest of your peers into issuing a declaration of war on Mexico and Canada in order to save us all.

How to Survive Swine Flu:

If you are one of the hundreds of people afflicted with swine flu, you will want to heed my advice.  Live.  LIVE damnit!  Live like you never have before because in many ways, you never will again.  From what I’ve heard, swine flu can cause severe coughing, sneezing and in some cases nausea.  All medical information I have read claims that for two full days, all people afflicted with swine flu will be very, very uncomfortable.  The latest medical breakthroughs suggest that the only way to fight this pandemic is rest, plenty of fluids and a healthy supply of day-time television.

How to Benefit from Swine Flu:

I am pretty disappointed with our government’s response to swine flu.  Not only have my cries to destroy Mexico and Canada fallen on deaf ears, but we have not correctly harnessed the full power of this disease.  In current form, swine flu can make someone sick for two days and even prove fatal if the afflicted suffer from immune deficiencies, old age or gonorrhea.  Why not engineer this virus into a supervirus that can kill all afflicted?  My recommendation to our lawmakers is to have Magic Johnson have sex with a pig to create the Swine AIDS Virus Effect, or SAVE.  SAVE could then be bred into a lethal killing machine to combat the largest source of inbreeding in this country, West Virginia. 

Just think of a world without Mexico, Canada and West Virginia.  I’m getting chills brother! 

Never trust a guy that….

has spiked hair.  It is a scientific fact that excessive hair gel is applied to the male scalp soaks into the brain and transforms the nominal male thoughts from sex to naked man-on-man mud wrestling.  Something about the spiked ‘do causes even the brightest, gentlemanly men to devolve into the lowest form of douchebaggery.  According to the CDC, spiky hair is the number one cause of tea baggings, head bands, wrist bands and excessive Gatorade consumption.

has a New Jersey accent.  I expect there is a high correlation between men with spiky hair and men with New Jersey accents.  Jersey guys require Jersey or New York girls to keep them under control.  Those ladies possess a special attitude and a certain go-fuk-yourself demeanor that combats the Jerseyoscity these guys exude.  If you are not a NY/Jersey girl, you want to be wary of these accents for you will be taken advantage of.  The number one goal of these guys is to nail you Cincinnati Bowtie style, with their friends cheering their every move,
after several Jaeger bombs, while listening to Bon Jovi and eating pizza.  Now, in order to avoid that unpleasant assault, it is important that you know how to separate a Jersey accent from a New York accent.  You have to listen to
the guy say “Hoboken” or “Jaeger” or “The Boss.”  If they sound like they have a pair of testicles in their mouth while saying those, you have a case of Jersey accent
on your hands.

wears a tie when it isn’t required.  The following is a list of acceptable
occasions for wearing a tie: weddings, funerals, baptisms, galas, balls, board
meetings, executive meetings, 5 star restaurants, Chippendale shows, when they
are accompanied with a birthday suit and socks only.  That’s it.  If you find a guy wearing a tie and he is not taking part in any of those activities, he is trying to draw attention to himself because the normal attention-grabbing methods of good looks and good personality aren’t working.  A tie guy has realized that he does not have what it takes to lure women conventionally and has thus resorted to other methods.  Maybe that’s okay, but maybe you should question why he has failed so awesomely with looks and personality.

owns a motorcycle.  Contrary to popular belief, a man on a bike is not overcompensating for anything.  It’s quite the opposite really.  He has more than most women could bargain for in his engine room.  Alongside that main
course of hog (pun intended), there is a side of STD.  If you learn to equate motorcycles with STDs you will be way ahead of most other women.

performs excessive foreplay.  That’s right; I said it.  A man who performs excessive foreplay is not to be trusted.  The reasons for his exploits are not because he cares that much about you or because he only wants to make you happy.  I assure you, he is selfishly motivated.  A dude who spends too much time up front is saying one of a few things, and none of them are good.  A) I am a prude.  B) I have an inadequate bulge and am embarrassed by it.  C) What is about to happen is not going to feel good or will be over too short for you to be
satisfied with your decision to let me do this.  D) I’m not sure if I’m straight.

is excessively stylish.  This guy is way too into himself to really care about anything you think or have to say.  He is looking for a one night stand without condoms, foreplay and a wrong phone number upon leaving.  On second thought, maybe that is what you are looking for….

drives a Scion tC.  A car says a lot about the man driving it.  For example, a man driving a 2007 Ford Fusion obviously has his crap together and would be great to jump the bones of.  He is practical, smart, hung like a mule and lives life to the fullest.  On the other end of the spectrum, a man driving a Scion tC is most likely small in stature, way too loose in the hips and has an unusual obsession with gangsta rap music. 

waxes or shaves his chest.  Believe me, he’s not doing this so your torso doesn’t get itchy or scratched, he’s doing this because he has yet to realize that he is an adult male.  Men are supposed to accept the chest hair they have as a link to their animal past.  Men who wax/shave their chest are more closely related to women, or Asians.  Maybe when they discover that sack hanging from their groin is indeed male genitalia, they will cut the waxing and start the belching.

plays lacrosse.  If there is anything that screams “RAPIST” this is it.  Lacrosse players participate in a sport where aggression, cheating, dirty play and erotic masculinity are not only accepted, but are encouraged.  Do you think that a
guy can turn those things off when he comes home after having it bred into him
on the lacrosse field?  Doubtful.  This guy will be overly aggressive with you,
will cheat on you, will try to put it in your butt and will probably ask for
you to reciprocate the rear play with a strap-on or plunger handle.  RUN!

is under 5’6” tall.  This may be the most blatant of all flags.  Short men are synonymous for a few things: Napoleon Complexes, small wieners and poor breeding.  I think the first two points are obvious.  Short guys generally like to get into fights.  If they can’t find a bigger dude to brawl over the migration habits of the Monarch Butterfly, he may look to brawl with you.  For example, Chris Brown is 5’ 6” tall.  The human body is all about proportions and smaller bodies equal smaller dongs.  But poor breeding, that’s the major deal breaker.  A small dude is going to provide you with small kids.  In this civilization where bigger is better and Asians are now playing in the NBA and standing over 7’ tall, do you really want to set your kid up to be used as a tether ball on the school yard?

who owns a cat.  When a man makes a conscious decision to purchase a cat, he understands that he is making the statement, “This is the only pussy I’m interested.”

I can’t divulge ALL of the warning signs as it may lead to a man-revolt and eventually a manexecution of yours truly.  We just can’t have that.  Happy hunting desperate hussies and cougars!

I have traditionally taken part in the small personal sacrifices over the years; some were very difficult while others were not.  I have given up soda, which was not
terrible.  I have given up chocolate and sweets, but since I am not a woman that was too easy.  I gave up self-indulgence which was no stroke of genius.  I gave up alcohol one year in college and many people didn’t even notice the difference, but did appreciate the safe rides home.

In what may prove to be my most difficult Lenten season to date, I intend to give up swearing for 40 days.  I look at this as somewhat of a proactive step, as I have found myself swearing more than usual due in part to my immersion in the Navy culture.  The term “cuss like a sailor” is more fitting than anyone realizes.  Regardless, I am going to attempt to give up the following filthy words for 40 days:

f-bombs, shit, bitch, c-bombs, asshole, cum dumpster, pussy, dick, cock, ass, meacrob, tit burger, bullshit, horseshit, hogshit, birdshit, turtleshit, foreplay, wahoo, cocksucker, motherfucker, damnit, God damnit, buttfucker, cum swapper, dick licker

If there are any major words that I may have omitted, please call me out on it and I will add it to the list.

By now you must be saying one of a few things, “Brian, there is no way you can do this.  Your mouth is dirtier than my toilet after Taco Bell.”  Or you could be thinking, “Brian, there is no way you can do this.  I hope you enjoy disgracing God.”  I’m not going to lie; this is going to be difficult.  I can foresee myself failing numerous times.  With that in mind, I want to be sure there is recourse for failing to keep my promise.  I have decided that the best incentive in this case is monetary.  For every swear word uttered out of my mouth from next Wednesday through Easter, I will place a quarter in a jar.  At the end of Lent I will tally the change and donate 40 days of swearing to charity.

So that’s the game.  I try not to swear for roughly a month.  If you catch me, you need to point it out so we can keep this honest.  Maybe this Lenten season will teach me about deprivation, giving, clean living, emotional sacrifice as well as numerous new words and phrases to replace all the ones I am no longer allowed to say!

In response, I have written my first song as a retort of sorts.  It will appear on my upcoming self-titled album of parodies, "Is it Supposed to Burn Like This?"  Because I care about all of you deeply, I have included the lyrics below.

In order to give yourself the full feel, you should pull up the actual version on youtube (or your iPod) and replace all of Beyonce's words with my own.  So if you feel you are ready to immerse a couple of your senses, then click here: Youtube Link and let's go girlfriends! 

Oh yes, you will need speakers/headphones.

If I were a Girl

By: Brian Mackey

Composed: January 25, 2009

If I were a girrrrrllll

Even just for a daaaaay

I’d roll out of bed, stare in the mirror

And play with my boobies

And go, hop in the shower



And lather myself

I would pick from a selection

Of more shampoos and lotions

Than any Wal-mart has

Chorus:

If I were a girrrrrrrrrrlllllllllllll

I think I could understaaaaannnd

How it feels to be so crazy

I could terrify any maaaannn

I’d have PMSSSSSSS

And feel how it hurrrrrrts

I could shoot out a new baby

And never need a pain killer

‘Cause this labor thing is freakin’ laaaammmeee


If I were a girrrrllll

I would dress like a sloooot

Make everyone look at me

And think that I was a smokin’ hot asssss


I’d wear high heeeeellls

To make make my legs look tooone

But that’s not the only reason

It’s also ‘cause I’m self conscious, yes I ammm

Chorus:

If I were a girrrrrrrrrrlllllllllllll

I think I could understaaaaannnd, oooooo

How it feels to be so crazy

I could terrify any maaaannn

I’d have PMSSSSSSS

And feel how it hurrrrrrts

I could shoot out a new baby

And never need a pain killer

‘Cause this labor thing is freakin’ laaaammmeee

Be a little clingy, a major head case

A delicate flower

Think I don’t notice that shit

Go on and eat your emotions

There’s ice creaaaaaaammmm

But you're just a girrrllll

You don't understand

And you don't understand, oooohhhh

How it feels to be so crazy

You could terrify any maaaaaannnnn

You have PMSSSSSSSS

You moan how it huuurrrrrts

You could shoot out a new baby

You could bitch about your mother

You could shop all your problems awaaaaay

But you're just a girl, mmmmm

I like to think that I am the type of person who knows what he wants and then goes for it. After all, how else could I have made my first million, acted in a series of blockbuster movies and been photographed in a threesome with Jessica Biel and Elizabeth Hurley by the age of 26?  So those are bad examples and maybe I don’t know what I want and consistently go after things that I do not want.  ....

The last 10 years have seen a great deal of change in the world, but also my life.  I’ve finished two different schools, moved through 3 different towns, made more poor decisions than the Bush Administration and probably sired close to a baker’s dozen little colts around this green earth. Nowhere is the change more evident than my relationship with Britney Spears.  After a long, circuitous road to ruin, I am happy to say that I am once again in love with the incomparable Britney Jean Spears.....

My rediscovered love forced me to ask the question, “What is it about Britney that makes me fall in and out of love with her so?”  Being the mega-engineering nerd I am, I have developed a formula to calculate just how much love I have for Britney.  Now stay with me because there are going to be some numbers thrown around here because after all, love is a numbers game.....

There are nine factors that contribute to B-Love:....

Hotness Factor (HF) – This factor is worth the maximum 10points and is a reflection of the overall image of B-Baby and just how arousing that image is.  Is this image something that I would put on the background of my home computer, or is this more likely something I would hide in an unmarked file somewhere deep in the computer nether regions?....

Sanity Factor (SF) – This factor is worth a whopping 9.5points.  The reason it did not get the full 10 points is because any man would doink Britney, regardless of crazy, if she’s looking good.....

Trash Factor (TF) – This factor is worth -5 points.  Being from Mississippi and the greater trailerish demeanor she sometimes displays, this is an unbecoming trait that is worthy of serious deductions.  You can take the girl out of the trailer, but you can’t take the trailer out of the girl.....

Preggo Factor (PF) – Simply put, if she was pregnant with someone’s baby other than mine, it was a -8 deduction.  If she was pregnant with my child, which can be expected circa 2010, it’s only a -6 deduction.....

Hair Factor (HF) – The hair is worth 7 points.  As long as it remained long and luscious(color independent) she received full credit for this category.  When it was bald and ::gulp:: bold, my heart dropped.  I think I’m learning just how important hair really is to me (ironic yes). If there isn’t enough for a solid tug, I’m not going to be interested.  I mean really, how else can I be expected to get control of a conversation?....

Marriage Factor (MF) – If she was married over that period of time, it was a -3 point penalty. Blessed sacraments can only be but so much of a barrier, but are still a barrier none-the-less.....

Music Factor (UF) – The music of the time was a 2 point factor.  If she’s making those rumpshakin’ jams, she’s going to get credit for this.  If she’s off shooting out kids with hideous poses and not making music, no points for you!....

Whore Factor (WF) – The whore factor is worth 4 points and is closely associated with the hotness factor.  This goes a step further though from the realm of scintillating to downright naughty. I see this as a positive, thus the 4 point gain.....

Desperation Factor (DP) – The only factor that does not hinge on Britney is also worth 4 points.  The desperation factor reflects how desperate I am to be loved by Britney.  If I am on a hot streak, I’m probably not as desperate as when I’m making regular trips to Palmsdale.  ....

Now that we know the grading criteria, let’s look at some historical dates and give a yes/no vote to each of these factors to see if they apply.....

1998 – I was a young nubile in high school desperate for some Catholic school drop out to Hit Me Baby One More Time.  Britney was indeed hot, sane, not trashy, not pregnant, impeccably haired, unwed, dropping musical bombs and innocent.  With those powers combined I was a 32.5 on the love scale.....

....

2000 – I was the young nubile finishing up high school and subjecting the south to my outlandish antics.  All it took was one Miss Britney Spears in a tight red leather one piece, a cheesy Titanic reference and Oops… I was trippin’ again.  Britney was fantastically hot, fairly sane,not resembling trash, did not have a baby on board, was very hairy, not married and on her way to becoming a whore.  With those powers combined and a lack of desperation on my part, we have another32.5 on the love scale.....

2004 – I was the magnanimous senor in college who truly appreciated two story/4 man beer pongs and slip-n-slide parties.  About this time, Britney was on an airplane getting Toxic all over my loins.  She was uber hot, not all there upstairs, garbage woman of the year, not pregnant, incredibly haired, married for 55 hours,climbing up the charts and a damn dirty hoe bag.  She had a couple of things working against her in 2004, namely a 55 hour marriage and a slip into Mississippi trashiness.  If we factor in my utter lack of desperation we are left with a 15 on the love scale, but the slide would not stop there…....

2005 – I was out of school and trying to convince business types that I was professional and smart enough for them to spend their play money on my engineering services.  That would prove to be an easier task that loving Britney.  The hotness was gone, as was the sanity,there was a baby on board that probably contributed to the loss of hotness, her hair did still look dynamite, she was not officially married to K-Fed the boy wonder, didn’t even put out an album but was definitely a whore.  It was tough to say, but with my lack of desperation, we only amassed a -5 on the love scale.....

2007 – This would prove to be a very rough time for Britney, and thus my life of loving her. The hotness was nowhere to be seen, neither was the sanity, her trashiness was every-present, she was again carrying an extra ton of baby, he rluscious hair was shaved in a bizarre incident, she was still married, managed to release a new album and could not possibly be a whore because of the disgustingness that had become her life. It’s amazing that someone who spent the better part of the year in rehab, shaving their head and looking frumpty, could still release an album that was not terrible.  “Gimme More 2000 Britney” I pleaded, as I bottomed out at -14 on the love scale.....

Today – I’m living it up in DC in an attempt to wash the country off of me.  Seeing how Britney is pretty country (i.e. redneck trailer trash) herself, one would think that the love train would never come back to her station. Yet, like a bear to honey, I return. In one short year Britney has managed to regain her hotness without regaining her sanity, she has laid off the babies, the ‘do is back in full effervescent effect, the marriage crumbled like the Berlin wall, the circus isin town and as seen in the Womanizer video, she has clearly regained her sluttitude. This was like the Patrick Ewing of rebounds.  I was able to go from an all time low rating of -14 in 2007 to a desperation-induced 27 on the love scale in 2008.  She has totally Womanized my heart yet again.....

So now that we have all that down, what do those love scale numbers actually mean?....

-10 and lower = Are there any female rugby players available?....

-9 to -1 = I can close my eyes and pretend it’s something magical.....

0 to 9 = This is better than dinner at Waffle House.....

10 to 19 = Hand me my wallet.  I’ll pay for this.....

20+ = Just slide the tissues under the door because I’m not coming out until it’s over.....