How’s That Workin’ For Ya? Or, why I can’t stop thinking about Michael Ealy

You know how some things just “work”?  Like peanut butter & chocolate, cashmere & …….anything, Nutella and _________,lemonade on hot summer days, etc……?  Well I’ve been thinking about some things that don’t work so well together.  And it’s not like I’ve spontaneously come up with these thoughts, most of these things have popped into my brain because I keep seeing these images everywhere I go.  Kind of like, “I see dead people”, only worse.  So, without further adieu, here are some things I’ve noticed that DO NOT work: 

*Men over the age of say, 25, going shirtless.  Specifically our new next door neighbor.  Frequently.  He’s pasty white and WELL over 25.  Actually I think he’s well over 25 + 25.   So, I’ve come up with a list of questions that if you’re a man, you may want to ask yourself the next time you’re tempted to go shirtless, anywhere (you could ask yourself these questions if you’re a woman too…..whatever floats your boat). If your answer to any of these questions is “no”, then you’ll know to cover up that real estate before you head out the door so you don’t blow someone’s retinas out:
  >Are you Shamar Moore?  If no, then put a shirt on
  >Are you Michael Ealy?  If no, then put a shirt on
  >Are you Ryan Gosling?  If no, then put a shirt on (and be honest, more than
    half of you guys right now don’t have clue #1 who the first three guys on    
    this list are, so you DEF need to cover up.  Right now.  I’ll wait)
  >Are you Denzel, back-in-the-day? If no, then put a shirt on
  >Are you Mel Gibson, back-in-the-day?  If no, then put a shirt on
  >Are you currently working as a fireman?  If no, then put a shirt on 
   (volunteer firemen don’t count.  And don’t write me hate mail, it’s in the rules)
  >Are you Pierce Brosnan?  If no, then put a shirt on (and yes, I know Pierce
    never did have the most ripped biceps or pecs, but for crying out loud with
    jet black hair & blue eyes, who looked at his arms anyway?)
Okay, moving on.  Here are some other things that also do NOT work.  Ladies, take notice:
*Women over the age of say, 15, wearing short skirts, cowboy boots & cowyboy hats.  Anywhere.  Seriously.  If you ARE a cowgirl or cow-woman (is that even a word??) then you know you can’t wear a skirt up there on that horse anyway (I may not know much about horses, other than they’re ginormous and they smell REALLY bad, but I do know your mother would NOT approve).  If you’re NOT a cowgirl, you don’t belong in that get-up at all.  Yes, I’m serious.  I don’t go walkin’ around in scrubs pretending to be a surgeon, so you shouldn’t be all cow-girly if you’re not riding a horse everyday.  Unless it’s Halloween and that’s pretty much what you look like anyway.  Point B:  I  bring up this whole old-lady-in-a-cowgirl-getup subject because I saw this during JUCO this week.  YES, at a college BASEBALL tournament I saw at least one older woman wearing a mini skirt (ewww), with cowboy boots AND a big ol’ black hat.  And I can not erase that picture from my brain.  I oughta sue.
*Fannypacks.  It appears I’ve landed in the dumping ground of one of the worst fashion crimes the American culture has ever perpetrated.  They’re everywhere.  Stop it.  There is no place for them.  And for all my dog friends who are now whining, “Wait, I wear my fanny pack from 1981 to carry dog treats and plastic bags for our walks!”.  Go buy a dog treat receptacle thing that hangs off your belt, or stuff the treats in your jeans pocket the way I do.  You’ll be just fine, trust me.
*If your hair is one color, say some shade of brown, and then you dye chunks of it platinum blonde.  Or red, or fuschia.  Or any other color.  It looks ridiculous.  Seriously.  It’s not right!!  You want to color your hair?  Fine, but try to make it look like something that MIGHT have happened in nature before a nuclear holocaust forever altered all of our DNA.
*Women wearing tank tops.  Okay, I KNOW I’m going to sound like something out of 1949, but really, what’s the point?  Okay, here’s a general rule of thumb:  if you put on a tank top (or any sleeveless garment) and you’ve got more flesh/fat/skin OUTSIDE the tank top than what’s inside, don’t wear it.  If you fall into the too-much-flesh category, wear your tank in the privacy of your own backyard when you’re gardening.  You’ll get some color on your arms but you won’t make anyone’s eyes bleed.  If you fall into the category of all the important body parts fitting conveniently INSIDE the tank top, congratulations, sort of.  I mean, it’s not like we women need to advertise that we’ve got boobs (which is really all tank tops are good for revealing anyway).  Everyone knows this about girls/women, so truly, this is NOT news.   My point is that apparently ALL women of ALL shapes and sizes (and yes, I’m aware that a circle is a shape) have been put under some strange hypnotic trance that tells them they all look like Jillian Michaels when they put on a tank.  Um, you don’t.  And Jillian’s really pissed.  
*People who only post half the message on their Facebook status updates leaving the rest of us wondering what in the world is going on.  Either tell the whole story or don’t mention it.  This includes all physical ailments, surgeries, conditions and limbs hanging off.  
*Mothers who take their kids their kids to parks and then tell them to be careful every eight seconds.  Stop it.  Let your kid PLAY.  Kids LEARN through PLAY.  Really they do:  their brain synapses are firing as they push the boundaries exploring their environments and their muscles are learning how to work together getting faster and stronger.  Your constant voice in the background of their “fun time” is just planting seeds of worry and doubt that something AWFUL is about to happen if they continue to try to figure out things for themselves.  Unless you’re the parent of an Aspie who climbs like a goat and her legs look like the 405, the 10, the 110, & the 710 at rush hour.  Then by all means, encourage her (him) to be careful, it’s worked REALLY well for you so far.  
Well, that’s my list, please send me yours.  Or a picture of why you SHOULD be going shirtless (men only please).  But don’t send me a picture of Jillian pissed.  That WILL keep me awake all night.

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