Wednesday, December 16, 2009

There Will Be Blood

I am not gay! I can debate the merrits of the female form and all it's parts and pieces with the best of them.
But somehow I am addicted to watching ultimate fighting with adonis-esque men beating the living hell out of each other while wearing painted on banana hammocks barely canvasing their interior belongings.

 It is the sign of the times when good old fashioned boxing can no longer generate decent ratings and this bloodfest of a sport is growing more popular. Heaven forbid a match of 12 rounds of the sweet science ending in a judges use of lead, rather lets make the gloves as small as mittens and find out who's brain will be exposed first. Damn it, I love it. I love the fact that in the same ring can be a man of 260lbs. fighting another man of 220lbs. completely insane weight class difference by normal fight sport standards, but not the UFC.
There will be blood.


Tuesday, December 15, 2009

A Man Looks At 50

It's half over, I am no longer at the top of the hill looking down but hurling towards the pit of death.
I have quickly traversed the decades like chapters in a good book.

20's - Sex, drugs and rock 'n roll
          worries: I wonder if she is single

30's - Love, mariage, babies, career, minivan
          worries: how much does college cost and why am I driving a freaking minivan.

40's - Same as 30's minus the minivan
          worries: How much have we saved for college and when did my boobs get bigger than yours.

I see older men walking about town some are balding and some have hanging bellies, one trait I notice about them is that the majority of them seem to be happy. Their physical appearance has come and gone like a ship in the night, no longer the cock of the walk or the king of the pride, their sexuality  does not seem to be priority any more.

 From the time boys start oogling the fairer sex until the coffin lid closes seeking the adoration of women seems to be the paramount goal, not to say that us married men are out there poaching and chasing tail (Ahem, Mr. Woods) but we still see ourselves are viable sexual beings. But as we cosmicly hurdle towards the middle ground do we loose that infinate desire to be attractive, are we more concerned with our short game and putting stroke or that our football team will be purchased by a Russian oligarth and given a blank check for next season. (From my lips to God's ear) ps. We need a left winger.

I suppose most older men are happily married and have raised their kids. Some have a few coins put away for their retirement and seem to be glad to be over the mid life crisis. Understanding that the need to mate and populate  has come and gone, now it's time for them to pass the widom on to the next generation of wide eyed lads.

I have quite a few years to go untill I hit the half century but have noticed the slowing down of the once athletic body, These are some of the recent signs.
1. No longer able to stay up past midnight murdering pints marinated in whisky and function the next day.
2. No longer able to out dribble the football team of kids I coach.
3. Barely beating my 11 year old in a foot race. Yes I said 11 year old, he is as fast as Hermes.
4. Not being able to sustain myself on pizza and accepting bran in my life, yummy.
5. Actually wanting to visit the doctors office without the sharp prod of the wife.

I am sure there are many more to come so for now I will keep on keeping on and do the best I can. at least I live in a country where the cost of healthcare and medicine is affordable. Oh shit...

Friday, December 11, 2009

I never understood until I became a father

I always wanted to hold the hammer when dad was finished driving the nail. Fast forward 35 years and I still remember the feeling of watching my father work, my own super hero, protector and teacher. The progenitor of my existence and of generations of us to come.

I had the privelage of working with my father recently and it brought back a rush of memories from my youth. I was the holder of the tools while dad hammered away, I stood proudly by and sponged knowledge to be used in future decades.

My father has aged but so has my respect for him, he is a template from another generation when men used their hands and their minds simultaneously, a man taught by a man who fought for the freedom of the world.

Are there men of this caliber from my own generation?  possibly a small percentage but most of us are not the men our fathers, we are politically correct watered down versions of the men who hammered the nails and fixed the engines. We are cubicled lemmings who follow a pavlovian course to so called financial security while watching grizzled soldiers on CNN fight battles that shape our portfolios.

So thank you dad for being a complete role model, a man amongst men. Thank you for letting me hold the hammer and learn as you silently taught me manhood.

Cheers, Sausage.

Dad and wee red

Blackpool 1975

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

A 300 yard drive, a slice and a penalty stroke

When is an animal human? When a Tiger proves to be just a man.
I have followed his career since he was a boy, I have purchased the swoosh and bought the balls and copied his every stroke (the ones on the course)
I don't know the challenges of being a billionaire and having a buffet of women to choose from as if deciding where to eat lunch, but I do know when the ring is on the finger the penis stays in the nike pants.
I am dissapointed in the man, he was the catalyst for many of us to pick up the sticks again and give it another swing, he was in many eyes the perfect role model. A true master of his domain on and off the course.

This latest episode of male stupidity only stokes the female fires -  All men are pigs, dogs, whores, etc...
The smartest man in the world tonight is George Clooney, why? - rich, good looking, talented and most importantly a confirmed batchelor, with the ability to juggle women like a drunk frat boy. Hats off to you George for having the common sense to know you are not done sowing your wild oats and don't feel the need to placate women by surgically attatching a wedding ring. George has done everything Tiger has sans the weighted karats and character assassination. Cheers to George.

A parting thought : The penis is responsible for two things
1. 50% of procreation
2. Pre-nuptual agreements

good luck with the lawyers, you could always change your name from Tiger to Cheetah