Category Archives: Throwback Thursdays

TBT! Could Healthy, Organic Foods Be Killing You? Probably.

(Sept. 6, 2014) The answer is of course! If you hit anyone hard enough with a cantaloupe it would probably kill them. The question is are health foods killing you slowly and insidiously the way health food advocates claim that all those so called “unhealthy” foods are?

squashsquares

See that picture? Notice the smiling cartoon children? Of course they’re cartoon children! You can’t get real children to smile about squash for breakfast! I’m calling Child Protective Services on anyone who buys this for their kids.

A clinical study that I would do if I had the time would show that healthy, organic foods are killing us little by little, emotionally and maybe physically. In an article I found online anthropologist Rachel Caspari said that by examining Neanderthal dental records, her team established that 130,000 years ago, ‘no-one survived past 30. At least I think that’s what she was saying. I didn’t want to read further in case she presented some alleged facts that wouldn’t support my point.

And what is my point? My point is that 130,000 years ago nobody was frying stuff, nobody was adding antibiotics to anything and nobody was giving cows steroids, and guess what? They didn’t live past 30. So back when all we ate was organic foods nobody lived very long. Then when we started adding additives, preservatives and trans fats around 1900 or so the average human lifespan in many developed countries has extended to 80 or better.

See that picture? “Chickenless” nuggets? Just knowing they exist made my soul die a little bit. Take a moment to imagine a life where you wake up, grab a cup of Fair Trade, Organically Grown Coffee, pour yourself a bowl of Banana Squash Squares for breakfast and then, after a long, hard day of work, you come home to a dinner of “Chickenless” nuggets made from textured wheat protein. Maybe later with a glass of organic wine you’ll munch on some flax seeds. Did any of you feel happy when you imagined that scenario? No! Of course not. Health food is bad for your soul. Now picture swinging by Starbucks in the morning to grab a brownie and a tall Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappuccino. Then for lunch you grab a juicy burger and fries. When you return home maybe you eat a little healthy by having some nice salmon, but when you settle down later you top the day off with a couple chocolate chip cookies. How did you feel when you thought about that day? Much better right? So called “bad” food is good for your soul.

Also, if nuggets were to forever be chicken-less, would the chicken population explode and civilized areas would be overrun by chickens running around without having their heads cut off? That’s the apocalypse scenario I’m worried about. Zombie chickens!

Picture credit: play.google.com

Picture credit: play.google.com

So, in summary, if you eat too much “healthy” food you won’t live as long or feel as happy, and you would cause us to be overrun by chickens. Is that what you want?

So what are your favorite indulgent foods that make you feel better at the end of a rough day? What are the worst healthy foods you’ve ever seen or eaten? As always, if you enjoy #ThePhilFactor feel free to share by hitting the Facebook, Twitter, or re-blog button below. Have a great weekend! ~Phil

Throwback Thursday! The President Might Kill Me

(Feb. 9, 2013) He’s probably not trying to kill me right now, but he might. And he could, and it would be legal. I’m sure President Obama wouldn’t be the first to think about killing me, but he’s probably the first that could do it legally by remote control plane. Earlier this week the Obama administration re-affirmed a Bush era policy that gives the President the right to unilaterally decide to kill someone that might be a threat to the country in the future.  If you need more factual information than I’ll ever provide you can read about it here: http://www.cnn.com/2013/02/07/us/drones-classified-document/index.html

Sure my little Barack Obama jokes on my blog may seem cute, but what if Barry gets his panties in a bunch and decides that I’m trying to lead an uprising? I won’t debate the pros or cons of the policy, but I will say as a “guy” that it is a seriously awesome policy. We get to sit home playing Call of Duty while Barack by virtue of his job gets to play it for real. Part of the policy leaked to the public this week indicated that Barack Obama could use drone planes to assassinate anyone he thought might be a threat to U.S. security. Drone planes! Seriously, how cool is that? I wonder if he has a Playstation controller in his desk drawer that he takes out.

Now if he’s picking off al-Queda operatives I’m cool with that. But what if he gets some bad info? Or worse yet, what if somewhere out there some terrorist has the same name as me? Sure, the chances of that are fairly small, but it could happen. How can I rest easy knowing that Barack could be scrolling through the online White Pages and click on the wrong Phil Taylor when he’s targeting the drone? Or what if Barack decides to take a night off, gets all liquored up, checks Michelle’s browser history and finds that she’s been visiting my blog just a little too often? That is exactly when we need a little bit of the old checks and balances system.

I’m pretty sure that my ADT security system won’t be much help if a drone flies in my front door and tries to drop a smart bomb in my pants. It won’t matter where I am if Barry decides that me or my blog are a threat to the country. I’m pretty sure that if Dominos can find me in 30 minutes or less the Air Force can GPS the hell out of my cell phone and find me no matter where I am.

I’d just like to say a big hello to all the wonderful CIA and FBI operatives reading this today. Welcome to The Phil Factor! Think about this: the CIA and FBI monitor “internet chatter” to find threats to U.S. security. I assume that they probably have some internet filter that grabs onto anything with certain keywords they’ve programmed it to look for. In the course of this blog I’ve used the words President Obama, kill, smart bomb, al-Queda, threat and Michelle.

In the event that I’m killed by a drone plane or I mysteriously “disappear” please keep #ThePhilFactor spirit alive by hitting the Facebook Like or Share buttons. Also, I’m still on my quest to have my novel White Picket Prisons gross more than the $264 that Christian Slater’s movie Playback did, so if you haven’t, please buy my book for your Kindle, Nook, or iPad for only $2.99. You can also keep up with all my writing hijinks including contests by following my Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Phil-Taylor/331876066920144

Btw, this is me talking in present time. Not part of the Throwback post anymore. I don’t care who any of you voted for. Just please don’t make President Trump aware of this policy. If he knew that he could use drones to kill anyone at any time…

Have a great Thursday! ~Phil

TBT! The Clown Whisperer

(Aug. 7, 2007) Yesterday started out normally enough and then I saw the first clown. Yes, I said the first clown. There is no circus in town. There was no parade yesterday. But there he was, in front of the guitar store waiting for a ride. He sat on the bench and carefully arranged his clown suitcase and his other clown accoutrements in front of him as he waited. I became self-conscious that he might notice me staring even though I was watching him in my rear view mirror. He appeared to look in my direction, right at my rear view mirror and into my soul. A chill crept across my heart. I looked down for a moment, fearful that he was returning my gaze and I’d suddenly be mesmerized by his piercing stare. Then when I looked up again he was gone. It was so sudden that I wasn’t certain he’d ever been there. There was no car pulling away. No trail of endless brightly colored handkerchiefs as he walked away. Just nothing. He was…gone.

 
Later in the day I was driving home from running some errands and as I stopped at a traffic light I looked at the car turning left, crossing the intersection in front of me. What I saw looking back at me was unbelieveable. Two clowns in a car. Yep, only two. But they were clowns in full makeup looking at me as they passed. “WTF,” I thought. And then they were gone, just like the other one.
Why? Why are all these clowns showing up? What is the meaning? Why are they following me? As far as omens go, this can’t be a good one. Randomly seeing three clowns in one day with no circus or parade going on? That is effing weird. Enjoy your coulrophobia! Have a great Thursday! ~Phil

 

 

Throwback Thursday! The Rolling Stones Are Liars: My Class Reunion

(07/27/13)  Of course this doesn’t apply to me and all my classmates who are attending our reunion this weekend.  The high school reunion. That American institution where we renew friendships, reminisce, and catch up. We remember who we were and we talk about who we’ve become. Last night I had a very nice time talking with many, many old friends.

Back to my title. The Rolling Stones are big fat liars. Mick, Keith, Ron and Charlie. Every one a liar. Pants on fire. The whole nine yards. What did they lie about? They lied about time. Time is SO not on our side. Judging from how haggard The Rolling Stones look, time isn’t on their side either. Especially Keith.

I know where you think I’m going with this, but you’re wrong. Yeah, sorry about that. I’m not going to bemoan how the years have changed my classmates and I. If anything, I was pleasantly surprised by how good everyone looked. My old friends are happy and healthy and doing well. At least the ones that attended our reunion.

reunion

In addition to attending reunion activities I also went back to the neighborhood of my childhood. I’ve only been there a few times in the last twenty years. Everywhere I looked there were ghosts. If I looked at a street corner I could see the younger versions of my friends and I goofing around and I could hear the echoes of thirty year old conversations about inane topics. Walking by house after house, memories of incidents and adventures came to life in my minds eye as if not a day had passed.

The most startling revelation however is that apparently since I grew up I’ve become a giant. The parents of my childhood friends are smaller and shorter than I remember them. As my friend and I walked the streets it was amazing how much the houses had shrunk and now look old and run down a bit.  The walk around the block which seemed so long  as kids is now barely long enough to be considered much of a walk at all.

Street Sign

I know that all these things are illusions. People age and the neighborhood that was a whole world to us as kids suddenly appears small and old when I return to it from the larger world I’ve explored since I left home. Damn it Mick Jagger, you promised that time was on my side. I blinked and suddenly that naive, wide eyed boy from a small town turned into an adult with a mortgage and acid reflux. I guess more appropriately, this weekend illustrated to me the truth in the title of that Thomas Wolfe novel; You Can’t Go Home Again. I tried and although my home and neighborhood are not what they once were, I’ve enjoyed meeting high school friends again who all seem to be better versions of the kids I knew. Here’s to old friends.

3Reunion

As always, if you like what you read at #ThePhilFactor please hit the Facebook share button, especially my high school friends that might be reading this. It was great to see you all again. And thank you to Cindy for all the pictures you’ve posted to Facebook. I’m sorry I couldn’t include pictures of everyone that was there. Have a great Thursday! ~Phil

Throwback Thursday! The Big Red Button

(July, 22, 2005) Is it just me, or does everyone else have an irresistible urge to push a big, red, button anytime you see one? I was at the hospital the other night because one of my mini-me’s had broken his finger in a dramatic kick-ball accident. While I’m waiting at the triage desk, I spot a big, red button on the wall behind the desk. The sign under it read, “Ventilation System Shut Down.” I suppose that’s there in case they suddenly discover they’ve got someone with Mad Cow disease and they need to quarantine the place ASAP. I swear it was all I could do to restrain myself from walking over there to push it just to see what would happen. I imagined blaring warning sirens going off and big, steel doors slamming down over all the exits as they sucked the air out of the room. I still wanted to push it though.

I remember back in high school I worked at a big store, and one time I was in the warehouse, which wasn’t where I worked, and I saw a big, red button on the wall. So I pushed it. A large section of the wall suddenly opened up. So I ran away.

I imagine that when I visit the White House I’ll probably be in the Oval Office chatting with the President about the relative merits of interns, when suddenly my head would swivel violently, having noticed the big, red button on the President’s desk. It would probably be too late for the President to stop me as I said, “Hey, what does this do?” as I simultaneously pushed it.

I think this is a genetically programmed urge because while at a restaurant once, one of my little guys couldn’t resist the urge to push the bar on the emergency exit door despite the sign which said, “Do not push. A loud alarm will sound.” Is it just me, or does anyone else have this or similar urges?

Yes, the date at the beginning of the post is correct. I was blogging in 2005. There were only six of us at the time. Have a great Thursday! ~Phil

Throwback Thursday! Kim Kardashian’s Butt and Vacation Boobs

(11/15/2014) This is it. Mano a mano. Kim Kardashian versus #ThePhilFactor. Or rather it’s Kim Kardashian’s big bulbous butt versus my big bulbous sense of humor. Kim thought her racy pictures in PaperMag would #BreakTheInternet but she was sadly mistaken. If anybody breaks the internet it’s going to be me. Kim wanted to break it with her butt, but I’m going to break it by being an ass.

a2dee7debf51f3640

Yeah, Kim and I used to be an item way back when we were young. I was actually the first rung on her celebrity ladder. The fame and popularity of my books and The Phil Factor drew her to me. I should have known it wouldn’t last. The picture above is of us at a New Jersey Nets game. I thought she seemed just a little too eager to visit the locker room after the game. I should have known better.

Kim’s latest stunt, trying to “break the internet” by allowing the website for a little known magazine to post nude shots of her wasn’t even her or their idea. Check out this picture of myself I posted on The Phil Factor back in 2005 when Kim and I were dating.

PTKK

Look familiar? I’m pretty sure she photoshopped her head into this picture and gave it to that magazine. I’ve never shown my backside on The Phil Factor, but I’ve got glutes women would kill for. No one has yet but I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

Speaking of women killing for a great butt, I saw another item on the interwebs this week that caught my attention. What if you want the perfect body for lounging on the beach during your vacation but you don’t have the time to work out? Apparently there is now an answer to that. You can get “vacation boobs.”  As a guy, I love the sound of that. What it really means though is that a New York city cosmetic surgeon has developed a process where he injects saline solution directly into the breasts to inflate them for anywhere from 24 hours to two weeks. The bodily gradually absorbs the saline and the boobs shrink back to their normal size. Apparently they’re also developing a process for butts and men’s calves and pecs. Seriously ladies, when you go to the beach have you ever checked out a guys calves? I’m not even sure I have calves. I’ve never looked. And if you are single and you invest in vacation boobs or pecs and you meet someone on vacation, how do you explain the change in your body later?

Also, in another demonstration of idiocy on the world wide web this week, Katy Perry’s boyfriend DJ Diplo (it should be Dipshit if you ask me) caused waves when he tweeted that “somebody should start a Kickstarter to get Taylor Swift a booty.” Dude, what is your problem? What has Taylor Swift ever done to you? How about you worry about your own girlfriend’s booty? If I’m Katy Perry I’m kicking this guy to the curb for paying attention to Taylor Swift’s booty. If Taylor Swift is worried about this she could invest in a vacation booty. Somehow though I doubt that Taylor Swift and her billions of dollars are worrying about a tweet by that loser. Katy, you could do so much better.

I could not believe how much stupidity populated the internet this week. I’m not a celeb follower but all this stupid “news” was unavoidable. But alas the internet did not break. So why don’t we break the internet? You and me. If everyone who reads this shares it by hitting the Facebook, Twitter and re-blog buttons below it will spread far and wide until it is the only thing on the internet. I posted this at 6:40 this morning. If you’re reading it, the internet isn’t broken yet. Get clicking! C’mon, help #The Phil Factor #BreakTheInternet.

Have a great Thursday! ~Phil

Throwback Thursday! The First Rule of Phil Club is…

(06/01/2013) Gentlemen, or should I say, Phil Taylor? Welcome! Welcome to Phil Club. I suppose you’re all wondering why I’ve gathered you here today. This, (holding my arm sweeping it around to encompass the room)  is Phil Club. The first rule of Phil Club is that you talk about Phil Club.

Phil Taylor, Sports Illustrated writer: “Wait, wait wait. In Fight Club the first rule of Fight Club was that you don’t talk about Fight Club.

Me: “I’ll cut you some slack because you’re new. Did I say this was Fight Club? No, I said Phil Club. Phil Club is a gathering of all the talented and powerful Phil Taylors from around the world. Phil Taylor is an esteemed name that for generations has been the moniker for more famous and creative people than any other single name. We talk about Phil Club because it’s awesome! We’re awesome!”

Phil “The Power” Taylor, world’s best darts player: Excuse me mate, but I was told there would be bangers and mash  ‘ere. I’m not staying if I can’t eat.

Me: (exaggerated sigh) Listen ‘mate’, don’t get your bollocks all up in a knot. We’ll get to the food, but not before we get to our main order of business. Since darts isn’t even a real sport you’re lucky I let you in Phil Club at all.

Phil “The Power” Taylor: Hey wait a minute! You…

Me: Call me back when it’s in the Olympics, dart boy.

Phil Taylor, Cleveland Browns nose tackle: What’s the second rule of Phil Club?

Me: Aaah! Finally a wise soul amongst us. Well, besides me I mean. Thank you Phil. The 2nd rule of Phil Club is that with great swag comes great responsibility. It is incumbent upon each Phil Taylor not to embarrass the family. By the way Phil, how many Pro Bowls have you made it to?

Phil Taylor, Cleveland Browns: Hey, that’s not fair. I’ve only played two years.

Me: Security!

The similarities are startling

Phil ‘The Philthy Animal’ Taylor, Motorhead drummer: I’m with Phil. When do we get to the fish and chips I was promised?

Me: Oh great.  Another Brit. You guys gotta stop watching Harry Potter. You’re all starting to sound the same. It’s driving me completely barmy. We’ll get through our rules and then pick a nominee and we’ll eat alright?

Phil Taylor, Sports Illustrated writer: So what are the rest of the Phil Club rules? I was promised a jumbo shrimp buffet and I’ve got a deadline.

Me: Phil, you’re damn right you’ve got a deadline. I expect a complete write up of Phil Club in Sports Illustrated this week. Rule #3 of Phil Club is that  all Phil Taylors should follow each other on Twitter and retweet everything all the other Phils post. That way, at some point Twitter will be nothing but Phil Taylor stuff. First we conquer Twitter and then the world!

Phil Taylor, Sports Illustrated: This is stupid! I’m not writing about Phil Club in Sports Illustrated.

Me: No shrimp for you! Now to our final order of business we need a nominee to run for President. Not of Phil Club, but of the United States. Any suggestions?

Phil Taylor, Cleveland Browns: Yeah, I vote that we vote you out of Phil Club. You’re kind of a jerk. Anyone else agree?

Phil Taylors: (Raucous cheering and shouts fill the room)  Here, here! Get rid of him! Security!

Me: (Security takes me by the arms and begins to drag me away from the podium) You can’t do this! Don’t you know who I am! I’m Phil Taylor! (dragged from the room to the sounds of thousands of Phil Taylors cheering and eating.)

As always, if your name is Phil Taylor or if you enjoy The Phil Factor please hit the Facebook  and Twitter share buttons below. May you all have a very Phil day.