Men, Shtupping and Dr. Suess

Posted on November 14, 2012 by captaincliff
Shtup

(Adult / Slang)

Or:


Riddle me this. The President was just in Amsterdam on his way to some little Nuclear Security Summit meeting or another. Already three Secret Service agents have been sent home for getting totally trashed off duty. I guess they didn’t even make it to the Red Light District or the groovy hash bars. They did the same thing in Cartagena Columbia except then it apparently also included hookers and beer pong. When I read progressive websites like the Good Men Project I notice I have somewhat paradoxical reactions. My first thought is, “Man this is great stuff! Maybe there IS hope for men and mankind. Maybe men are finally evolving into mature enlightened beings far removed from their caveman roots and self-limiting stereotypes. My second reaction is, “Wait, if men are growing substantially in terms of social and emotional intelligence, why are there still so many men who “fall from grace” before our media saturated eyes and end up in the Bill Clinton Hall of Shame? Nobody doubts that there has been a sea change in society regarding applied science,artificial intelligence and computer technology. Whether the men who use all this technology have changed their own basic psychological source code and cognitive operating systems is debatable.

In times of trouble, social unrest, and economic instability, we turn to our most respected elder statesmen, both alive and departed. Theodore Geisel, otherwise known as Dr. Seuss, once said, “Adults are obsolete children”. With society being the way it is and information moving at the literal speed of our current computers and hand held devices, even the beloved author of Green Eggs and Ham might be future-shocked by modern techno-culture’s rapid pace of change and obsolescence. What he would think about men being men and guys acting like selfish jerks is anybody’s guess, altho there might be some suggestive literary clues.

The Grinch, a Seuss character known for his social immaturity, greed and self-centeredness would also seem to be someone who isn’t all that enamored with technology and the latest greatest mobile apps, even if he did seem to have the right bright green thumbs for it. As it turns out, some adults are becoming both psychologically obsolete AND more reckless with age. Most of them are men. Imagine Mr. Geisel’s confusion upon reading the headline news today regarding our Presidents security detail and who’se shtupping who…or is it whom? Apparently there is a military crisis occurring in Crimea on top of everything else going on, and its not just about the gazillion dollars we spend on high-tech wars in places we cant pronounce. It’s also about the four star generals and their lady friends who happen to not be their wives. Man may well be a “social animal”, but there is evidence to suggest that some of our military leaders and certain key personnel in the security and intelligence community are still pulling double duty by becoming exceedingly friendly with prostitutes or somebody elses spouse. When it was suggested that our military “stand firm” and “Be All That You Can Be” is this possibly what they really meant?

Perhaps the good folks at The Good Men Project (TGMP) are not interested in what I, a 60 year old Baby Boomer Psychologist and sex therapist have to say on the subject. Regardless,they truly do appear to represent the best of what men can be and are hopefully becoming. They are to modern manhood and masculinity what Elizabeth Warren’s  grassroots army of volunteers were to her stunningly successful Senate campaign.Those smart as a whip college kids and young people carried the day (and the candidate) to a transformative victory over the predictable status quo. Similarly, the old ideals of masculinity and the outdated male stereotypes will eventually end up in the same locked and bolted backyard storage shed that now houses society’s archaic notions about race, gender, slavery, child labor, homosexuality, and “legitimate rape”. However, if fathers are significant role models for their children, then what anachronistic notions, gender-biased views, and bad behavior are some of us continuing to model, often without realizing it?

More specifically, what is it with men in authority and all the binge drinking, continuing frat boy behavior and extramarital shtupping? What seemed to start (in terms of public disclosure) with JFK in the White House swimming pool has gone on unchecked and unabated right up to and beyond General Patraeus’s resignation from his position as CIA director for engaging in unsavory “drill routines” with his female biographer. No wonder he stayed in such good shape and did so many push-ups everyday. The push-up thing alone should have tipped off the FBI and most certainly his wife.

Let’s be perfectly honest. Can we all just agree in classic Jack Nicholson in “A Few Good Men” style to just be willing to “handle the truth” for a moment? It doesn’t matter if a man is black or white, flaming gay or stodgy straight, right wing, left wing or solid centrist, many guys have a tendency to act like idiots and cheat like 6 year old girls playing Monopoly. They bend rules, lie like Persian rugs, and no matter if they are introverted tax accountants, quadriplegic world renowned theoretical physicists or Secret service agents tasked with guarding sex-crazed presidents and/or more contemplative commanders-in-chief, many men remain vulnerable to serially screwing up and shtupping outside the bounds of marriage and committed relationships.

Certainly I cant say this is the case for every man or every Catholic priest (dont get me started) but given the opportunity, a large number of men (approximately 60%) will probably in their lifetime seek shelter and possibly a few forbidden-fruit fueled orgasms in the beds and boudoirs of non-commissioned partners. That is until they’re caught, and then pretty much on cue every guy (except maybe trial lawyers and politicians) does a big mea culpa and falls on their sword if they are wearing one. If they aren’t or dont have one they go to celebrity “rehab”, claim to have a sex addiction, or blame it on undiagnosed bipolar disorder . I’m talking about the short-term mild kind of mental illness that allows them to slink home quietly after 30 days. By contrast, killing and eating the people you sleep with would more likely be blamed on bath salts and bipolar…of a more serious variety.

I suppose the Good Men Project folks would say that shtupping outside of marriage is definitely something guys need to work on. Fidelity and faithfulness certainly seems to be something that is easier to proclaim about belief in God, country and the US Marines than when it comes to keeping Private Peters in ones pants and making sure a “cigar is just a cigar” and not some creative Clinton-esque sex prop in the Oval office. Thanks again for that disturbing visual image seared into my subconscious, Mr. President. Trust me, I would really rather read Dr. Seuss and imagine myself in Whoville celebrating the colorful Who Centennial. Instead I am left once again to ponder “who” among our leaders is what Dr. Suess would call a  “bad banana” and a “king of sinful sots”. Full disclosure: It turns out that Dr. Seuss, the venerable Theodore Geisel also couldnt control his own inner Grinch, and his late in life marital infidelity was a contributing factor in his wife’s unfortunate suicide in 1967.

Finally, I realize as a Clinical Psychologist I could give a long-winded explanation on the bio-psycho-social reasons for man’s tendency to stray and how and why men in power fail so miserably when it comes to monogamy, even in comparison to other “lesser” species including wolves, bats and prairie voles, but that would just add to the list of our paltry male-centric excuses and clever obfuscations that guys use to justify our less than admirable behavior, Admirals included.
Cliff Mazer, Ph.D. is a Clinical Psychologist and blogger/humorist who lives in Sandy Springs, Georgia. He loves Pirates and blogs under the psuedonym of CaptCliff at:https://captaincliff.wordpress.com  Contact: 404-932-7193
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Important Alert: Cheetos Crime Spree

Posted on November 11, 2012 by captaincliff

Due to the ubiquitous presence of completely insignificant information on the internet, I have ascertained a strange recent phenomena involving a connection between crime, violence and eating Cheetos. As a Cheetos lover (addict) myself, I was, of course, compelled to investigate further.

Two prominent news stories indicate that eating Cheetos can in fact lead to your death, mostly because someone else gets so pissed off about it they either stab you or try to beat you to into unconsciousness. Maybe its the way it makes your clothes, mouth, lips and tongue bright orange. Perhaps its the irritating manner in which Cheetos eaters talk in an unintelligible language of grunts, groans and airway clogged consonants like, “Wa Ya sayin? Aga toomaen ma moud..”.  It could even be the chemical preservatives and food additives that today extend the average shelf-life of a bag of Cheetos to between 12 months and 3000 years. Yes, the remnant of Cheetos-like substances have been found in archeological excavations in Ancient pre-semitic Israel as well as Paleolithic Cave drawings in the south of France. One scholar has suggested that Early man may have even used a naturally occurring unprocessed form of Cheetos for multiple purposes including loincloths, clothing, packing material, hair dye, wall chalk, bedding, and edible jewelry.

Regardless of its functionality and unusual versatility, few researchers deny that the physiological consequences and side effects of eating too many Cheetos can lead to violence, psychosis and the need for even more empty calories and carbohydrates. The fact that two men in a skeevy part of St. Louis (see link below) were willing to fight and die for Cheetos is lesson enough for the rest of us. Certain things like marijuana probably should be legal. Other things, like Cheetos (original, not those crunchy gluten free imposters) should be more carefully controlled and regulated by lawmakers and at least one large, inefficient government agency composed of all middle managers and upper level bureaucrats. Finally, the combination of psychoactive substances like pot and Cheetos is an important area of ongoing clinical research and something that I, CaptCliff have boldly offered myself and my orange stained bloated body to science. Send all free samples to CaptCliff, Box 134%$#@, Atlanta, Ga. 30328.

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Come On People Now

Posted on November 7, 2012 by captaincliff
To all my friends and family who voted for Romney (and there were a fair number of you):

Please dont panic. The sky will not fall. Your doomsday fears and exaggerated beliefs are not true and will not happen, ie. Barry is a flaming Communist, Michelle and the kids are Muslim, David Axelrod manipulated the weather and purposely caused the massive super-storm Sandy, the Obama Healthcare mandate will immediately cripple the economy, gay people will marry one another, randomly start adopting children and turn into baby-eating zombies, and Israel will be forced to turn in their nuclear arsenal, etc.

What REALLY needs to happen is people have to start compromising in a reasonable fashion. We could use all the zillion dollars that was wasted on negative ads and super-PAC fund-raising on both sides.

Republicans, please realize that the more radical Tea Party elements in your midst are no better than radical Islamists who say they are defending their “Founders” cherished principles and beliefs but are really carriers of bigotry, prejudice and unscientific assumptions that promote a dangerous herd mentality and lack of introspection.

Democrats, there is a need to encourage personal responsibility. We do need to confront the looming debt crisis. We must “conserve” and preserve our moral as well as fiscal sensibilities and remember the practical reality that if you give a mouse a cookie it will eventually forget how to forage and expect more free stuff in the future. I hear two wild cats meowing outside my door right now to prove the point.

Both parties, read your history books. Nation-Empires always crumble due to a combination of predictable factors like corrupt oligarchies (1%ers), tyrannical power hungry despots, an easily swayed fear-induced citizenry, and treasury draining wars and foreign occupations as well as imperialistic ambitions masquerading as “peace-keeping”. We simply cant “afford” the price of modern warfare that take good men and women and return them physically and psychologically wounded/traumatized, emotionally damaged and prone to violence and self-harm. Shaking their hands in the airport on their initial deployment and then failing to check on them three or four years later when they return home shattered is a national disgrace. We should have learned better from Korea and Vietnam.

Hipsters: Consider that some of your elders are worth listening to, even if they cant text with their thumbs or reconfigure any of their digital devices and technological gadgets without you. Social media is cool but it has it’s limits.

Baby Boomers All:  Come on people now. Smile on your Brother. Everybody get together and try to love one another. Trust me I know that’s not easy……but we need to try, like we did once before and tend to forget.

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CaptCliff on Celebrity News

Posted on November 6, 2012 by captaincliff
BabyBoomers1
There is a reason you dont see the following headline on TMZ or your Facebook newsfeed:  Baby Boomer Rocks Gray Beard and Extra Large T-Shirt at Starbucks!! Simply put, it ain’t news. Why then is it deemed significant enough of a story to let the whole world know when Miley Cyrus, Lady Gaga or Snooki walk outside showing anything like a “baby bump” or midriff revealing blouse? Is mere celebrity reason enough to report anatomical details about someone usually reserved for ones proctologist,neurologist, or obstetrician? How would you like it if your last sonogram, colonoscopy exam or MRI (along with the dye stained brain images and photos of your rectum) were downloaded to the world wide web with the banner, “Everythings in the Pink Says CaptCliff’s M.D. and Shrink” ? 

 
I know I wouldn’t exactly be “proud” of it, nor would I be clinking champagne glasses with friends at Spagos or Le Bernardin to celebrate the blessed event. Actually, I can’t really say what they do in LA or Beverly Hills. They are pretty weird out there. At least I know that in my hometown, Chicago they don’t have a big cork board at the entrance to Ditka’s or Gibsons Steakhouse for patrons to display the latest color slides of their endoscopy and upper GI series. Now that I think of it, maybe its not such a bad idea, especially at the aforementioned red meat emporiums, like Peter Lugers. 
 
My original point, now lost in ADD-like tangential thinking, is that somebody needs to reign in the so called journalists who are making an oxymoron out of the term “newsworthy”. Personally I care to know that my colonoscopy results were clear and “pink as a baby’s tush” (Dr. LeVine’s quote, not mine) alot more then I care to know what Pink was wearing at Brentwood Mall last week. As for my shrink and his professional opinion, that’s none of your damn business!
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CaptCliff the Hungry Hungry Jewish Hippo

Posted on November 4, 2012 by captaincliff

CaptCliff is pretty cheap. Also I’m kind of a food whore. Put those together and what do ya have?  

Here’s a good example.  Lately I’ve had chinese food on the brain. Sometimes I go on food “rolls” in which all I can think about is a certain food item like hamburgers, baked potato chips, Pad Thai, vanilla cupcakes…or basically whatever enters my head randomly and gets stuck there. 

 
Having the munchies, at least in my case, can lead to near fatal binges on ice cream, toast, crackers, cereal, starches, sugar, carbohydrates and whatever is left on the USDA food pyramid. There is no precise explanation or computer model that predicts what I will fantasize about food wise. Anyway, lately it’s been Chinese food. 
 

Yesterday I worked out at LA fitness around 3PM. Keep in mind that “working out” for me includes about 40 minutes on a treadmill while watching Law and Order and another 20 minutes walking around the gym repeatedly dousing my hands in antibacterial gel, people watching, and doing phony stretches in front of impressive weight machines that I never use. Watching other people use them starts to make my shoulders sore. Better not to aggravate the arthritis….

Then I did what my son Eli the personal trainer instructed me NOT to ever do. I walked directly from the gym to the Chinese restaurant two doors down. It said it was OPEN, so I couldn’t help myself. It had a large red neon sign. Also, there were very few patrons inside so I felt sorry for the owner. Somehow I was able to associate my ordering Chinese food right at that moment with contributing to the global economy as well as helping all the people currently starving in China…..and Staten Island.

Long story short. I convinced myself to be “good” and instead of ordering 5 deep fried entrees and three greasy appetizers, I ordered vegetable lomein and chicken fried rice. I also bargained with my “inner (obese) child” and agreed not to fall for the highly effective advertising gimmick on the door announcing a 2-for-1 Lobster in garlic sauce special.  Sure I wanted it, but the “special” wasn’t so cheap even at double the crustacean. I sat in the back of the restaurant and waited patiently for my takeout while plate after plate of Lobster dripping in garlic, ginger, and green onions whizzed by my head. Unlike PETA, I did not feel sorry for the lobsters in the two giant fish tanks who kept looking my way as if to say,  “Yo,  I may have a skin problem. Pick my chubby friend, Harold. Far end of the tank. Very sweet guy, unusually large hands…”

When my takeout order finally came (it may have been 15 minutes but felt like 4 hours) I pretended to be polite and calmly accepted the neatly tied plastic bag in hand and smiled warmly at the owner like a normal human being.  Inside the car and on the way home (only 5 minutes) I actually felt more like Buffalo Bill in Silence of the Lambs and/or the 1000 lb. woman in the trailer who sat on her cellphone and couldn’t reach her refrigerator for three days.  You know that certain intoxicating smell of chinese food in the car?  What is that, some aromatic form of garlic infused opium or MSG laced heroin??

In the safety of my own kitchen I took a sharp knife and slashed open the plastic bag like a wild animal and/or starving serial killer.  In the folding boxes I found NO lomein and NOTHING resembling chicken fried rice.  It was the dreaded “mistaken” order, something that happens regularly at Wendy’s or Burger King, but rarely at Chinese restaurants. What do normal people do? They take the mistaken order back and politely request the correct meal.  Did I do that? Hell no. I ate every mis-ordered order in the bag and slurped up the leftovers until the clock struck the magic hour and I changed back from a ravenous werewolf into a normal man,  albeit one with distinctive brown gravy stains on his shirt.

So, where’s the “hook” you ask?  Guess what I’m having for dinner tonite?  Me and the dark-haired woman are having the Lobster 2-for-1 special free of charge, thanks to the apologetic owner who politely fielded my strategically placed “complaint call”….the one I made right after I finished the whole damn thing.

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Sex, Love and the Yellow Brick Road

Posted on October 25, 2012 by captaincliff

The Wizard of Oz:  ”Child, you’re talking to a man who’s laughed in the face of death, sneered at doom, and chuckled at catastrophe… I was petrified.”

 

 

 

I’m going to talk about sex and love but first I have to mention the Wizard of Oz. What do these two things have to do with each other, you ask? I’m not sure but every decent writer uses clever literary devices like cinematic metaphors, so Oz is as good a symbol as any when it comes to sex education and love relationships. Both involve elaborate and unrealistic fantasies for one thing. Also, there is something compelling if not compulsive about both topics. People are literally obsessed with sex, with love and similarly are pretty darn cuckoo about the Wizard of Oz. That is unless it’s being shown at the same exact time as the World Series or maybe America Got Talent. I admit if it was a sports competition like the World Series, sex would generally win, except for certain superstitious and/or die-hard Yankee fans who would abstain from sex indefinitely if it was proven to lead to another baseball championship title. In contrast, Chicago Cub fans, while ever loyal, would easily choose sex (or probably barbecue ribs) over baseball, mostly because they are used to losing.

.

Why do people love the Wizard of Oz? I sometimes wonder why this particular fantasy and cultural preoccupation? Is it the tradition and nostalgia of seeing it on TV year after year after year? Is it the rush of watching the old movie “morph” into dazzling cinematic Technicolor from its drab homespun opening scenes? Or, could it be some hidden subconscious psychological desire to see shockingly odd and different marginalized members of society take a bouncy road trip together way way before there was AAA, Mapquest,  iPhones or GPS technology? Of course its no big surprise they get lost and freaked out. They had no clue where they were REALLY GOING and were too naive or dumb to consider asking the Mayor of the Munchkins or any relatively sane person in Oz for an actual map or written directions. They did have pens and paper back then, you know.

 Actually, if you think about it they must have been downright delusional to consider it would be a cakewalk to just “follow the yellow brick road”. What kind of half-assed adult guidance and support is that? I’m not even factoring in the added effects of wandering through a poppy field full of opium laden flowers let alone blindly trusting the advise of a so called  “good witch” who was clearly high on something herself (and possibly harboring some rather serious sibling rivalry issues).
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Well, sex and life itself is a bit like that. We really dont know what we are getting into, we have unrealistic expectations, we lack concrete information, and the future is highly uncertain. Many of us get into all kinds of trouble, encounter multiple obstacles and, looking back on it, the journey itself seems to be the very best part. It’s easy to get nostalgic…if it wasn’t so embarrassing. Let’s face it, much of the “advise” and “reliable information” we get growing up about sex is half-baked if not completely wrong. Like Dorothy (in relation to the Land of Oz), what we are told about sex is often riddled with exaggeration, misinformation, myths based on our childhood fears and teenaged fantasy based expectations. On the way we eventually learn what is realistic and maybe even what’s far more important in life and in loving relationships.

 

Still, there is something to be said for being willing to share our silly assumptions and cockeyed childhood memories.  Honestly, sexually and psychologically speaking we all start out dumb as doorknobs (rather than “blank slates”). Nevertheless, just like Dorothy in TWOO or the Parker Brothers board game sharing it’s name, we merrily skip down the road of life with equal parts optimism and obliviousness. Some of us, as the Wizard finally admits in The Wizard of Oz, are absolutely “petrified”, but go ahead and do it anyway. Thus, especially when it comes to our sex lives and romantic relationships (and the base knowledge required) we tend to believe what we hear or are told by others, no matter how non-credible the source. We even at times accept the unimaginable or the wretchedly weird like trees that talk and monkeys that fly. All together that makes for some pretty tall tales and goofy stories to share around the collective campfire much later in life.

 

Maybe the Wizard of Oz is just fiction, a wild fantasy dreamed up by a delusional farm girl in Kansas. Or maybe its one of those broader life lessons about personal journeys… like learning what is true and real and especially sustainable from what is initially a mistaken reality or topsy-turvy romance novel ideas and beliefs. Either way it makes for a highly imaginative tapestry of other peoples road trip stories and screw-ups that we can relate to. I think they call that a “fail compilation” on You Tube today. What were some of your sex and romance related “fails” growing up?

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A law firm specializing in personal injury claims posted the following information online:

Ambien Side Effects: Sleepwalking, Sleep Driving & Sleep Eating

 

UPDATE: Saiontz & Kirk, P.A. is no longer investigating potential Ambien Lawsuits for injuries as a result of the medication. Read More…
As a side effect of Ambien, experts explain that it is possible for a person to be half asleep and half awake.  This state causes people to do things that they would not do if they were awake, or to attempt to do things they are not alert enough to do.

Serious and catastrophic injuries have been reported as a result of 1)Sleepwalking 2) Attempting to drive while asleep  3) Sleep eating and 4) Complete Memory Loss

Folks, CaptCliff is here to tell you it’s all true. Especially #1,#3, and #4. Let me tell you a little story that will leave you amazed, dazed and quite possibly frantically calling the 1-800-BAD-DRUG hotline. This actually happened. Last night. I kid you not. All of it has been verified by the frightened woman who attempts to sleep beside me peacefully.  Speaking of sleeping, I dont get enough of it, so I take Ambien, prescribed by my friendly neighborhood shrink. I dont like to take it but if I dont, it’s a long long long night involving a lot of bad television and the painfully slow ticking of clocks. I dont mean the minimal tick-tok and slowing of space-time as  in my (or yours) oh-so-boring fourth grade history class but the incessant sounds of silence and spinning out of control cuckoo clocks at the beginning of a scary Twilight Zone episode. I’m talking Rod Serling in my bedroom kind of night.
Let me cut to the chase. Apparently I did the following things last night in my Ambien induced sleep and have no earthly memory of it:
1) I got up, walked downstairs and opened several newly purchased boxes of breakfast cereal, Triscuits, Melba Toast, Fiber One bars and strawberry special K granola treats.  I then proceeded to take out the 8 Special K bars and arranged them in some still unexplained cryptic pattern on the kitchen table. It may or may not be the same   tonal pattern and unusual arrangement used to contact the alien mothership in Close Encounters of the Third Kind. We dont know yet.
2) I opened the refrigerator, ate half a banana, and took out a bag of deli ham (shaved Boars Head Honey Maple to be exact), ate some of it like a wild forest creature and then carefully returned the uneaten portion….to the small kitchen drawer where the pencils, pens and take-out Chinese menus are kept. Dont even think to ask me, “Why there?”
3) I walked in my sleep back upstairs and instead of lying down and sleeping like a normal person, I proceeded to sit up in bed and watch tv (it wasn’t on) while talking complete nonsense dialogue  from a lively dream I was deeply involved in…in my head.
Here comes the freaky-deaky part. My bedmate then attempted to wake me and engage me in normal 3AM conversation like, “What the fuck are you doing?!” and “why are you watching a blank TV screen?”  Apparently I then tried to change the channels with an “imaginary” remote control while babbling, “When is this show going to be over?? It’s been going on way too long!?”  In retrospect those seem like reasonable questions deserving of a semi-rational answer.  Instead, no reasonable or rational response was given and subsequent efforts to rouse me from Ambien-land were unsuccessful. However, she did manage to remove a half=eaten banana from my boxer shorts. I’m not kidding. There was a banana in my pants and I wasn’t glad to see her… or even know about it. I then reacted and said outloud, “Hey, what is THAT doing there!?”

All in all it coud have been much worse, as other Ambien users have reported getting in their cars while asleep and driving on highways the wrong way.  That would be really bad. Other people I know have engaged in “sleep shopping”, a dangerous practice involving the use of credit cards to order large quantities of tacky clothing, bad costume jewelry and cheap cutlery on QVC… all while asleep. They and their  spouses are always completely surprised to see the parcels and packages arrive on their doorstep while also wondering who the generous gift giver might be (who happens to have their same exact postal address) and why he/she has such consistently bad taste.

Anyway, I am endeavering to solve this puzzling somnambulistic side effect which IS anecdotally reported by a certain number of Ambien users, but still not acknowledged as a major problem by the pharmaceutical company who makes the popular sleeping pill. Instead they remain busy counting their piles of money and sending their drug reps on Hawaiian vacations promoting their success in creating mindless zombies with deli meat hanging from their gaping jaws, Triscuit crumbs in their beards and half-eaten bananas…in bed.

Until the problem is corrected I have ordered all family members to put masking tape on the kitchen pantry doors at night and tie me to the rattan headboard of my bed, much like Odysseus lashed to the mast of his ship. I dont think I need to plug my ears to resist the Sirens and their seductive songs, but keeping my mitts out of the Triscuits and the cold cut drawer is starting to feel like a Homeric epic with serious Rod Serling undertones. Welcome, my few loyal readers to the middleground between light and shadow, science and superstition. It is the dimension of imagination and total weirdness we call……The Ambien Zone.

Posted on October 22, 2012 by captaincliff | 2 Comments

O.J. Simpson is apparently trying to sell the knife he “allegedly” used to kill two people with. He wants five million bucks for it, but all reasonable six figure offers will be considered. I have many questions: 1) Does it come with the wrinkly gloves that dont fit so they had to acquit? 2) Does it come with his foray into fiction writing in the brilliantly self-titled book, “If I did It”? 3)  Is the knife autographed and authenticated just like all his football memorabilia that he attempted to re-obtain at gunpoint from sports vendors in Vegas? 4) Is the knife still sharp enough to slice, dice, and nearly decapitate, and if not, could he include a free “Edge of Glory” knife sharpener? 5) What Infomercial marketing guru thought up the name “Edge of Glory” for a cheaply made AS SEEN ON TV kitchen product and what drug was he smoking at the time? 6) Can that stupid little device really sharpen all my plastic credit cards into razor sharp ninja throwing, tomato slashing weapons? Finally, how much would it cost to get O.J. to use the knife or my credit card to disembowel himself and post it live on Reddit or You Tube? Trust me, many people would pay good money to see that.

Posted on October 18, 2012 by captaincliff | Leave a comment

CaptCliff’s Idea for iPhone Man App

Posted on October 3, 2012 by captaincliff

Idea for iPhone Man App

Gentlemen let’s get right to the point ( unlike the chicks we are in a relationship with). We love them but they talk too much and wont stop texting. This whole social media phenomena plays RIGHT into their hands and their existing skill sets way more than it does ours. With the exception of Gaming, Pandora and Mapquest we get little or no added value from having a sweaty, brain tumor causing iPhone and microscopic keyboard attached to our heads and thumbs 24/7. Women, Israelis, and most gay men living in Los Angeles love it and wouldn’t mind having the whole shebang surgically implanted like pacemakers to allow easy hands-free access and a constant hi-fi signal while they shop, remotely launch Drone attacks on suspected terrorists in the Gaza strip, and talk to their Hollywood publicity agents, respectively.

Dont get me wrong, each of the groups mentioned has a legitimate reason to be perpetually connected. However, most guys in this country do not. In fact, there seems to be an undocumented Law of Physics that states the following: Girlfriends and wives tend to text and call MOST when it is MOST inconvenient. Taking a crap and looking for a little peace and quiet? They call. Manage to just finish doing your “business” on the John and getting ready to wipe? They text. Cutting up a raw chicken with probable salmonella or e-coli bacteria all over your hands? They call or text and our phone is always DEEPLY HIDDEN in our pants pocket. This INSURES that our trousers or shorts will be radioactively infected with deadly microbes very likely to cause an outbreak requiring the CDC to make a home visit in full HazMat suits.The wives and gfs wont care and will only ask more questions like, “Who’s there? I hear voices. Are you with someone??” Speaking of drones, I dont want to drone on like an old lady about this and am way more interested in a manly solution to the problem.

If technology is the source of the problem then it can also be the key to the solution. We need an algorithm, bros. We need to put the greatest masculine minds of the 21st century onto developing a mathematical model and super sensitive computer program that can generate automatic responses that are gender sensitive and so artificially intelligent that women cant tell we are still on the golf course, watching the game, drinking beer with buddies they despise, or more likely, just avoiding the all around too much talking and texting about stuff we dont care about. If IBM’s Big Blue the computer can plan multiple chess moves that beat the Grandmaster Chess Champion of the world, then we can build an iPhone app that responds appropriately to absurd questions and inane comments that over time make gaping holes in our head and are possibly lowering our sperm count. We have to set the bar high on this one because women are crafty and have very sensitive b.s. radar. You can only respond to stupid texts with, “lol!”, “loveu2”, “exactly”, and “good point” for so long before they counter with, “is this Cliff?” and “I can tell you’re really not listening to me. Dont u even care?” As a guy you probably know that awkward moment and bad feeling when you know your woman knows you dont give a flying fuck and our emotional-reptile man brain is thinking, “should I avoid, apologize or just leap over the railing of the 300 ft bridge I am jogging on?”

We can do better then mere “flight or fight”. We can employ technology that will respond masterfully to complex questions like, “What are you doing?”, “thinking about u, what are u thinking about?”, ” Kim Kardashian is such a whore!”, “I love Brittany, the conjoint twin best….”, and the dreaded “I called you 4 times. It’s not your new phone. What is your problem?” It’s Band of Brothers time. Big Blue and a couple dozen super computers need to synch up and derive a perfect solution to every permutation of possible she-text and respond back with utmost sensitivity, empathy, patience, and extreme unremitting interest. You know, all the stuff we hate to do.

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Telling the Toilet Truth

Posted on October 1, 2012 by captaincliff

toiletipoopI’ve been warned to stay away from potty humor and toilet type news in my blog. They say it degrades my profession, disgraces my doctoral degree, and reduces the power and “flow” of my heady form of scholarship (or schizophrenia) but, alas, I cant seem to help myself. Everything reminds me of bathrooms, toilets, poop, pooping and the holy grail of toiletry, the all important flush efficiency ratio. Practically every story I read is rife with bathroom related vocabulary and crappy metaphors that mesmerize my soul and stimulate my inner child’s silly bone. Have you never been fixated on bathroom fixtures? Does just hearing, reading, or thinking about the Biblical flood and Noah make you want to tinkle a little or a lot? Does an office building sign about EVACUATION PLANNING mean something quite different to you than just a mad stampede of workers to the stairwells when a Taliban in a turban and suicide vest or deranged domestic Pro-Life lunatic storms your commercial complex with an AK-47?

By the way, do you realize just  how important it is to move your bowels on a regular basis, otherwise known as being “regular” ? Who cares about being “normal” as long as one remains “regular”, intestinally speaking. My mother made a very big deal about it and  like achieving success in business, dieting or health in general it was something to crow about. Go ahead. Ask yourself, would I rather be slightly schizophrenic or severely constipated? I know. Please dont force me to choose, dammit! Admittedly that’s a Sophie’s Choice type “no win” question if there ever was one. Plus, aren’t you the least bit interested in where idiomatic expressions like “move your bowels” came from? Also, what about all the water we waste and all the thousands if not millions of parched Sudanese and Biafrans who would be delighted to chug our overflowing toilet bowls and giant-sized toilet tanks just to quench their thirst and wet their perpetually chapped and sunburnt lips? See what I mean? Toilets and toilet technology are directly relevant to large-scale global problems and widespread human suffering. I certainly know I suffer when I’m constipated….

We waste our water and flush our toilets like there is no tomorrow. Water conservation is a joke to many people. We flush our toilets like a busload of obese pensioners and widows playing the slot machines in Vegas, with or without their reverse mortgage money and Bozo buckets of silver dollars. The point is we cant NOT flush. I don’t know about you but leaving even one stray square or sliver of toilet paper in the toilet bowl is nearly an OCD “capital crime” in our Mr. Clean obsessed American culture. God forbid someone would go to the bathroom stall after us and find some yellow water or a “floater”. People have barfed up their corporate lunches and/or called 911 on speed-dial over such miniscule sanitation errors. OK, I admit it. In the past I’ve been part of the problem and not the solution. Because I drink Starbucks expresso roast like its vitamin water I am often overcome by Nature’s Call when I am out shopping…very often while cruising Big Lots, Walmart or Costco looking for deals on toilet paper and related bathroom paraphernalia. Aisles upon aisles of flushable baby wipes, inky toilet bowl cleaners, ginormous packs of 18 count double roll triple-ply and commercial disinfectants known to be more powerful (and antibacterial) than napalm and nuclear bombs are all of great interest to me. I once left Costco so loaded up on toilet paper and paper towels that I had to strap the entire wooden pallet to the roof of my Lexus. I’m sure those who saw me drive by made snarky and flippant comments to their passengers like, “Jew or not Jew?”
.

Anyway, try just to hear what I am saying big picture. If Sigmund Freud had not turned his drug-addled attention to more cocaine, morphine and other symbolic forms of oral and genital stimulation, ie. his many phallic shaped smoking pipes, soft leather chewing tobacco pouches, ubiquitous penises imagery, Egyptian obelisks, etc., he might well have posited a very different theoretical framework, one based on larger Cosmic principles…. like what swirling black holes remind me of rather than just assuming that every patient  unconsciously desires to have sex with their offspring and visa versa. Me thinks Siggy may have been projecting too much and doing too much blow….. Anyway, have I lost you on the long winding way to the pirate ship’s Porta-potty? To me this SHIT is of vital importance and SOMEBODY has to finally stand up, speak out, pull down their trousers and do their duty.

A really cool energy efficient dual flush retrofit kit:

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