Tag Archives: Throwback Thursdays

TBT! If We We’re Having Coffee I’d Probably Want To Punch You

(02/28/15) On Saturdays many people post a “If we were having coffee…'” post as if they’re telling you what they would tell you if  you had coffee with them. This is my “If we were having a beer…” sarcastic version of that after a really annoying week.

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The Dress: Seriously? Why did the whole world spend all of Thursday staring at a picture of this dress on the internet? Is it blue and black or gold and white? Who cares?!!? Idiots! I’m doing internet research to find out what company makes this dress and I’m investing all my savings in them. Do horizontal stripes make my hips look big?

Audible books: I read a blog this week where someone went on and on about their audible reading. Guess what? It’s not reading! It’s listening! I don’t care if you listen to books on CD or the internet. It’s a great way to hear a story or learn something, but…You. Are. NOT. Reading. I listen to music on the radio, but it doesn’t mean that I’m singing. Reading is reading and listening is listening.

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The Sleep Number Bed: The ads are everywhere. Maybe even in the middle of the audiobook you’re ‘reading‘. “What’s you’re sleep number?” You know what my sleep number is? My sleep number is that I close my fecking eyes and go to sleep! It’s not rocket science. Why do I need a sleep number? If I have to do math just to get into bed, I’m pretty damn sure I’m not going to sleep right away. How long before “what’s your sleep number?”  becomes a cheesy pick up line? If I had a reason to pick anyone up I’d already be using it.

My lazy neighbors and lazy postman: It’s been snowing like crazy where I live for the last six weeks. My mailbox is on a post with three other mailboxes. Between the town snow plows and my neighbor with the snow blower, our mailboxes have almost been completely buried to the point that the post office refused to deliver mail for three days… until I shoveled the mailboxes out. Why am I annoyed by this? First off all the post office’s motto includes the words “neither snow nor nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.” Apparently that’s a big lie.  Secondly, I don’t have a working snowblower nor an intact rotator cuff in my left shoulder, yet I had to shovel out the mailboxes. How freaking long were my neighbors just going to not worry about getting mail? Lazy jerks. Abe across the street, you’re forgiven because I know your rotator cuff is torn too.

Speaking of Snow…Hey Boston, shut up. It’s snowing everywhere else in the northeast too. We’re just not whining about it on the news every day. That picture below is what the rest of us do when it snows. Get over yourselves.

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The “Reply All” People: This is a public service announcement: Do not hit ‘reply all’ unless you have been specifically requested to do so. The rest of  us hate that. If you enjoyed #ThePhilFactor, however, now is the time to show off your “Reply All” skills by clicking the Facebook, Twitter, or reblog buttons below. Have a great weekend! ~Phil

Throwback Thursday! You Can’t Handle The Truth

(09/12/2015) That’s right. You can’t handle the truth. But the truth is that I know. I know beyond a reasonable doubt…

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I was on a jury for a trial this past week. Shocking, right? Apparently they felt that my celebrity wouldn’t disrupt the trial proceedings too much. Actually, as the trial was going on, before the judge dismissed the jurors each evening he reminded us not to talk to anyone about the trial and not to share details of the trial on “social media such as Facebook, MySpace, or blogs.” I won’t give any specific information about the trial participants or charges here. I will however make fun of some aspects of the experience that I found humorous.

I don’t know if you’ve picked up on this, but I’m probably not like other people. For years now I’ve yearned to be on a jury. I came close once. This time however, I was chosen pretty quickly. When they called our names I was the second one and I literally had to restrain myself from fist bumping the woman next to me.

My joy was further extended when, in giving the chosen ones a talking to about the gravity and importance of our task, the judge became only the third adult I’ve ever heard to reference my favorite historical document, the Magna Carta. The first adult since my high school social studies teacher, Mr. Hampton, to reference it was me in my Nov. 2014 post Ten Useless Things We Learned in School.  My excitement about my Magna Carta involvement was somewhat tempered when I found out that being a juror does not mean that we get to sign the Magna Carta.

But Phil, you’re saying, give us the details, the crime, the C.S.I evidence. We want the good stuff! First off, the real crime is that the Baha Men didn’t have more long term commercial success, and yes, that is related to the trial. I do feel fortunate however to have been witness to one of the greatest moments in legal history, fictional or otherwise. First, my favorite moments in legal history are:

1) In the 1947 classic Christmas movie Miracle on 34th Street, when Fred Gailey has the post office deliver the Dear Santa letters to Santa Claus in the courtroom. Genius! I want him as my lawyer.

2. From the 1992 movie A Few Good Men, the exchange between Tom Cruise and Jack Nicholson that contains “You can’t handle the truth!”

3. From  1992’s My Cousin Vinny“the two yutes…”

And now, for your consideration, I’d like to add the following to the list of greatest moments in legal history:

This is an actual exchange I witnessed in the courtroom between a cross examining defense attorney and a sworn under oath witness:

Attorney: So, you let the dogs out?

Witness: Yes.

When that happened, in my mind I pictured myself jumping up from my seat in the jury box and thrusting my fist skyward and “Yes! We finally know!” I didn’t do that, however I did look around at my fellow jurors to see if anyone else was trying to suppress a smirk. And nobody was. Then, the next day during deliberations I requested that the court transcriptionist read back a section of testimony that contained the exchange, not to hear the exchange again, but to refresh our memories on other details.  Nothing. No reaction . That’s when I thought to myself, this is definitely not a jury of my peers.  How many of you would have heard it the way I did?

You may not think much of this post, but damn, I referenced the Magna Carta, great movie courtroom moments, and possibly the catchiest song ever. It’s hard to beat that kind of entertainment and variety. If you enjoyed #ThePhilFactor feel free to share by hitting the Facebook, Twitter, or MySpace button below. (Don’t look. There’s no MySpace button, but I laughed in my head when the judge said MySpace in court) Have a great weekend! ~Phil

Throwback Thursday! Are The Berenst(e)ain Bears Proof of Time Travel?

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(08/15/15) “Hey Dad, I’ve got the coolest thing to tell you about. Do you wanna hear it?” Well of course, after a long work day, how could I turn down that offer? “Yes,” I replied, with as much half-hearted zest as I could muster, which wasn’t much.  He continued as if it wouldn’t have mattered what I said. “Ok, Dad, how do you spell (the name of that bear family from those books you read me when I was little)?” He actually said the name. I looked him in the eyes and with as much sincerity as was possible, I calmly said: “B-E-R-E-N-S-T-A-I-N.”  He looked crestfallen and stupified at the same time. I know, not an easy look to master, but my son is very talented.

His disappointment was because I spelled the name Berenstain the same way that is on the children’s books. Apparently, however, some believe that the spelling hasn’t always been that way. There are thousands of people all over the world, who apparently all have access to message boards on the internet, who remember that for many years the beloved cartoon and book bear protagonists spelled their last name B-E-R-E-N-S-T-E-I-N. So many people in fact that half of the Internets bandwidth is currently consumed by this discussion. Remember in the Spring there was that blue dress/gold dress thing? This is kind of like that, except it’s been going on for six years. Don’t believe me? Check this list of articles about it.

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The problem is, that so many people believe that it used to be spelled Berenstein that some have said this is proof that either we slipped into a parallel universe where some things are only slightly different than what we remember from the universe we were born into, or that someone traveled back in time and changed the spelling for some nefarious reason.  (Actually, I don’t know if the reason is nefarious. I just like using the word nefarious. Seriously, how many words can you think of that are cooler than that? I wish my blog was nefarious)

I believe both sides are right. The remembering of different spellings is proof of parallel (am I the only one who can never remember if the two L’s in parallel are in the middle or at the end? Thank you spell check)  universes and/or time travel. Yes, that’s right. I’m supporting the internet crackpots. Quick, how many of you already considered me an “internet crackpot”? Also, how many of you believe that I could use a little Ritalin to keep me on topic?

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Yes, you heard me. I believe there are parallel universes or alternate realities, but not in the sci-fi/Dr. Who kind of way.  It’s the time that we live in. Due to the plethora of media, different generations, different countries, or different groups have different realities. (Yeah, I used plethora, but it’s not as cool as nefarious) There is so much media that no one can consume it all, so we choose what we see and hear. Perception is reality and reality is like a telescope. It only sees what you aim it at. Prior to coming home today I had no idea there was a Berenstain Bears parallel universe theory, but there were thousands of people in the world who think this is a pretty important piece of information. That’s what they’ve aimed their telescope at. My telescope is aimed at McDonald’s, wondering if they’re bringing the wings back this Fall and when they’ll start offering breakfast all day long. Seriously, if breakfast food is all they had, I’d eat every meal there. Currently my cholesterol is so high that there are entire McNuggets floating in my bloodstream. Our universes are parallel to each other but we are seeing entirely different things.

Here’s the answer to the Berenstain Bears conspiracy theory: Hey children of the late 80’s and 90’s! Guess what? When your parents read those books to you, youwere four years old and didn’t give a rats ass about spelling. Your telescope was aimed at Tommy Bear, or whatever the hell his name was, and you were wondering if he’d fess up to eating the last cookie. Then twenty years later after you read about or met hundreds of people whose named ended in stein like Albert Einstein, Frankenstein, or Ben Stein (Bueller? Bueller?) you just assumed that the bears last name was the same. Just because some idiots made a typo in TV Guide thirty years ago does not make it a reality.

Look, I don’t know what else to say. I know I’m starting to verge into “Hey you kids! Get off my lawn!” crazy old guy territory, but c’mon! How can thousands of morons buy into this? Just because it’s on the internet doesn’t make it true. Guess what? I’m on the internet and I make stuff up all the time? Anybody remember ‘catfishing’? I invented that. All you late 80’s and 90’s kids, listen; Nickelodeon really was awesome when you were little, but nobody changed the spelling of the cartoon bears name, except Mrs. Berenstain Bear who went back to her maiden name  after she divorced Mr. Bear because of his drinking and “sex addiction”  problem and left him to get her own groove back. You’re adults now. Pay your college loans, get a real job, and shut the hell up.

As always, if you enjoy #ThePhilFactor, feel free to share by hitting the Facebook, Twitter, Reddit, or re-blog buttons below. Do it quick before someone goes back in time and changes it. (Oh yeah, I am SO sharing this on those Reddit message threads) Have a great weekend! ~Phil

Throwback Thursdays Music!

On Mondays I do my Music Monday in hopes of introducing people to music and bands they may not have heard before. Earlier this week when I was reading T. Wayne’s blog, JoyfulProcessBlog, I sort of borrowed the idea to have a music Throwback Thursday. Go check out his blog, it’s awesome. Here’s a classic song from the 80’s and a shout out to all my Canadian friends who remember it.

Have a great Thursday! ~Phil

Throwback Thursdays! I’m Freshly Pissed!

This was wildly popular when I published it two years ago. If you didn’t see it then, it’s new to you!

This blog is dedicated to myself and all the other erstwhile bloggers who have toiled long and hard writing interesting and engaging blog posts but have nary an official award to show for it.

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For my friends who visit me here from Facebook or TwitterFreshly Pressed is an honor awarded to people who aren’t as brilliant and funny as I am a blog post by the trolls people that ‘run’ WordPress like their own cool kids clique in high school. The honor of having your post Freshly Pressed means that it is part of a featured list on WordPress that is read by thousands and you get a Freshly Pressed badge that you can post in your sidebar for all eternity so you can lord it over the have nots, telling them  “I’m better than you”.

You know how the government has the “Do Not Fly” list? I’m pretty sure that WordPress has a “Do Not Press” list and if I wasn’t on it before I’m pretty sure I just got moved to the top of that list. Is it just me or are a lot of you sick and tired of reading blogs that begin with ‘I was on WordPress two weeks when my post was Freshly Pressed,” or “I’ve been Freshly Pressed three times.”  Well la-de da, aren’t you special?

Lest you think this is just sour grapes from an envious non-award winner, I once had a post that I shared on Reddit that got over 16,000 views in a day and spent over 24 hours ranked #1 in the Humor category. How can the Freshly Pressed overlords say something that gets that kind of reaction isn’t good enough?

I’m sure that this weekend the Freshly Pressed feed will be filled with hundreds of touching stories about great fathers.  Well la-de-da, aren’t you special? What if you never got your father’s or WordPress’s approval?  I’m creating a new award for all of us who have created  great posts that are creative, thought-provoking, funny, and original, and have never received the Freshly Pressed award that we so obviously deserve. My, nay, OUR award is the Freshly Pissed award. You can award it to yourself or another blogger who has never been Freshly Pressed but who obviously deserves it.

Just steal the picture at the top of this post and put it on your blog or send it to a fellow blogger you think deserves recognition. That’s right. I created that original, but unlike the tyrannical aristocracy of Freshly Pressed who hand out their precious awards as if they’re giving away Nobel Prizes, I want everyone to have it if they want.  (You know who else is going to be Freshly Pissed? My wife when she sees that I got permanent marker on a coffee mug making the picture)

If you can put it in your sidebar, great. I wish I knew how. If you do award yourself or others, let me know in the comments and I’ll compile the Freshly Pissed  list and post it on my blog later this week so that all of us who are Freshly Pissed can visit each other.  Keep in mind though that if you ever do win a Freshly Pressed you are out of the club. No soup for you!

If you like the idea please share by re-blogging. Have a great Saturday! ~Phil

Throwback Thursday! These Glutes Are Made For Walking!

If you haven’t read it before, it’s new to you!

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(06/13/15) That cartoon above will be me one day. My favorite post every three months is this one. Since I started doing this two years ago I’ve seen others do it too. I’d like to take credit for being the first. You’re welcome. If you come from outside the blogiverse to read this, what I’m talking about is the fact that in our control panel we get to see what search terms people type into Google that bring them to our blogs. So uh, yeah, you may have gotten here by accident, but we know exactly what kind of crazy sickos some of you really are. Without further adieu, here are ten of the most “interesting” search terms that brought people to #ThePhilFactor in the last three months:

10. Real sexting conversations to read in Hindi: As I explained previously, Hindi is a language, Hindu is a religion. About 6 months ago I noticed “real sexting conversations to read in Hindi” coming up as a search term bringing people to my blog. I thought it was funny so I wrote a hilarious post about it. Now, EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. at least twenty people come to my blog using that search term. Some days more people read my ‘sexting in Hindi’ post than the new post I put up that day. I am now the most popular Hindi dating advice site in the world.

9. Most painful things on Earth: Apparently reading my blog is one of them. People are surprisingly interested in pain. Ever since I wrote this post back in October droves of people have come to my site because they want to know about things that cause pain. I’d think “how to avoid pain” would be more popular.

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8. Yogapantsnono: It’s odd that someone got to my site using this phrase because usually if I see yoga pants I say yes yes, but that’s only because I look so good in them.

7. Charity for disabled rodents: That’s right, all proceeds from sales of merchandise in The Phil Factor Gift Shoppe are donated to buy tiny wheelchairs for rats. Who knows, one might turn out to be the next Stephen Hawking!

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6. Perks of dating a zombi: Apparently Google thinks I’m a dating site for zombies and Hindi’s. That’s right, The Phil Factor brings people together. I’m the Chuck Woolery of the blogging world.

5. People Die at Disney: Why did this bring people to my blog? I can’t say it’s untrue. I’m sure it’s happened there at least once. Those Caribbean pirates do look like an unsavory lot. There goes my chance to get Disney as an advertiser on The Phil Factor. BTW, most of you probably know that when Walt Disney died he had his head cryogenically frozen. I can’t wait to see them bring that back on top of an animatronic robot.

4. Useless things learned in elementary school: That pretty much sums up The Phil Factor.

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3. Fecal impaction cartoon picture: If you weren’t constipated when you started reading this, you are now!

2. I know you don’t need me anymore: Yes, The Phil Factor is the bastion of last resort for the lovelorn and heartbroken. Come find solace in my words. Luckily, if you are on the wrong end of a breakup you can probably find a zombie or Hindi speaking person here who is also looking for a little lovin’.

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1. These glutes are made for walking nude: Wasn’t that an old Nancy Sinatra song? The glutes are made for walking, and that’s just what they’ll do. One of these days these glutes are gonna walk all over you

The genius of this is that for those of you who know that song, it will be stuck in your head all day except you’ll be singing “These glutes are made for walking…” Have a great weekend! ~ Phil

Throwback Thursday! My Christmas Form Letter To You

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(12/14/13)  It’s that time of year again! The time for the year in review Christmas form letter. It’s always touching when our relatives treat us like customers. Typically these form letters take one of two directions. The first and most typical is the ‘What a wonderful year we had!’

“Dear ____________, 2013 was a wonderful year for my family. I started a new job six figure job, and my wife was promoted to president of her company. The kids are doing well. Johnny aced the S.A.T., didn’t miss a question! He’s now been accepted into a Ph.D program at Harvard even though he’s only 14. Susie was named Miss Junior America and will be touring the country speaking out against make up companies testing lip gloss on kittens. The picture on the front of the card is the new Bentley we got after winning the lottery.

The best course of action the next time you see these relatives is a swift, stunning punch to the forehead that will cause them to spill nog all over their tacky sweater and leave a mark on their forehead. They deserve this because either they are lying about how fantastic their life is, or if their life is that great then the bruise on their forehead will remind them that life is tough and they shouldn’t get too cocky.

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The second kind of Christmas letter is my favorite. It’s the disaster letter. These are the people who make you feel so much better about yourself and your life.

“Hello everyone, it is with a heavy heart that we wish you Season’s Greetings. Sadly our twenty-seven year old cocker spaniel passed away last week. He was delicious.  In more upbeat news from our family it has been a year of triumphs! Little Johnny learned to poop indoors and that rash on Susie’s face cleared up. As soon as Obamacare kicks in we’ll get her lazy eye looked at. Home schooling is going well and they both are on track to graduate by the time they’re 21. We’re so proud! Once Trevor finds a job we’ll buy some train tickets and come visit! The best course of action with these relatives is to tell them you’re moving and you’ll forward them the address as soon as you get settled.

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I would just like to note that neither of the pictures in this post are from my family. If I were to write a form Christmas letter to anyone reading this it might read:

Thank you to anyone who has read The Phil Factor even once. It’s been an amazing year for me thanks to all of you. Since I published my first book at the end of 2012 (and re-published it 8 months later) I’ve learned a lot about being an “indie author” and I’ve felt wonderfully supported the whole way thanks to the kindness of strangers I’ve met through the internet. Thank you to those who have read one of my books and those who clicked Like or shared my weekly Phil Factor as well as those that have helped by giving of their knowledge. I’d also like to thank the other authors who have allowed me to interview them for The Phil Factor.  Regardless of what religion or holiday you may be celebrating this season, thank you for every little click you’ve directed at me in some way.

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As always, Happy Saturday, and if you enjoy #ThePhilFactor please feel free to share by hitting the Facebook or Twitter share buttons below.

Throwback Thursday! The Elf From Hell

This isn’t really a throwback because it’s timely and relevant every year and I intend to keep posting it until all the demented parents stop waging psychological warfare on their young children.

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(12/22/2012) Most of you are familiar with the Elf on the Shelf right?  In the Elf on the Shelf tradition these poorly dressed little plastic elves are mischievous minions of the red suited overlord who spy on the every move of children and report back to their tyrannical leader. That allegedly quaint little elf doll was invented about 10 years ago as a new, and for some toy making company, moneymaking tradition. Fortunately for my kids I wasn’t aware of The Elf on the Shelf when they were young enough to believe in it.

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Parents put these little Elves on a shelf and the children are told that the Elf cannot be touched or it will lose it’s Chistmas magic. The elf allegedly flies back to the North Pole to report to Santa every night. Man kids are gullible! In the immortal words of Bugs Bunny, “What a bunch of maroons!” The nightly flight is how parents explain that the Elf is in a different spot when the kids wake up each morning.

Of course this crazy little ruse makes kids behave in the weeks leading up to Christmas! They’re terrified! Are you kidding me? Even now if you told me a Chuckie doll was going to sit on my shelf and stare at me while I slept, or that it might be moving around my house at night? I would never go to sleep again. The kids have got to be too terrified or too tired to misbehave. No wonder they have a weeks vacation from school after Christmas. They probably spend that week sleeping for the first time in a month.

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I have a friend who says that after her kids are asleep she will pose the Elf somewhere to make it appear as if the Elf had gotten into mischief overnight, such as putting him next to a tipped over jar of something, or maybe on a desk next to some torn up papers. So her kids wake up imagining that this creepy little doll with the frozen scary clown smile is moving about the house in the dark destroying things. How much longer before someone imagines the doll picking up a knife? What if in some home where they’re torturing their kids with the Elf on the Shelf, just by coincidence, their elderly dog or cat were to pass away during the night? What do you suppose those kids are going to think for the rest of their lives?

This tradition sounds like psychological warfare against children. How long before we see kids who have grown up with this tradition seeking counseling for PTED, Post-Traumatic Elf Disorder?

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Happy Holidays to you and your families. If you really want something mysterious and far less traumatic to just appear somewhere this holiday season please share #ThePhilFactor by hitting the Facebook, Twitter, or Pinterest share buttons below. Have a great Thursday! ~Phil

Throwback Thursday! Kim Kardashian’s Butt and Vacation Boobs

For some reason this was very popular when I posted it last year. Do you think the title is a good draw?

(11/15/15) 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.

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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.

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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 weekend! ~Phil

Throwback Thursday! I Was Cross with CrossFit

(09/13/2014) I’ve always gone to a gym or done some kind of exercise to keep in shape for nighttime crime-fighting on the rooftops of the city.  I went to the gym the other day and encountered my worst nightmare. Last month, bored with my usual gym routine, I decided to try a CrossFit class. First I had to find the CrossFit class. It wasn’t in a gym. It was in the back of an old, dingy warehouse that looks like the kind of place terrorists plan things. It was filled with black and gray fitness equipment. There was loud heavy metal music and lots of grunting and sweating going on. (insert sex life joke here) The atmosphere said, “This is serious working out. You’re either going to die or be able to lift a Buick when you’re done.” The class was great, intense workouts which I loved.

Picture credit: www.lolpix.com

Picture credit: http://www.lolpix.com

I got the first month of Cross Fit for only $35 through Groupon. When the first month was done I told the owner I’d sign up for two more months. He said, “That’s great Phil. Please hand over all the money in your 401K.” Thinking that this was too pricey I decided to shop for other options to vary my workout routine.

For the last five years I’ve gone to a basic, no frills gym because it’s near my house. This week I looked at other gyms and settled on a new gym. The gym where all the pretty people go. I walked in and there was a chorus of angels and a bright light shone down on me from above. It was the neon sign above the juice bar. I felt like I had walked into a shopping mall. Bright colors, shiny new equipment. Shiny new people. Shiny, happy people.

The gym had all the other stuff I usually do, plus some classes that at least by the title on the schedule looked like they might approximate CrossFit. That’s where it got interesting and the nightmare scenario played out.

The first class I tried was called Bootcamp something. It was suitably challenging and by challenging I mean that I thought I might die by the end, which is a good thing. The challenging, not the actual dying. Avoidance of dying is why I work out. I’m trying to make my heart strong enough that it will never stop beating. Yeah, I know that’s ridiculous, but have you got any better ideas?

Also, apparently the key to being fit is incredibly loud music. At CrossFit there was heavy metal music. Here, at the pretty people gym, there was dance music blaring. I think after dark it turns into a night club. So the Bootcamp class was good. Then next I tried a “Body Works plus Abs” class. That’s when the nightmare startedIt was some kind of aerobics class. The psychotic instructor, Buffy,  wore a wireless mic and every two minutes, between shouting peppy instructions at us, she would give a “Whoop! Whoop!” At first I thought she had Tourette’s, but then each time she did it one or two people in the class would whoop back to her.

Picture credit: dailymail.co.uk

Picture credit: dailymail.co.uk

The nightmare was my attempt to get in rhythm with 15 other people who seemed to be doing the moves in time to the music. I’m not good with rhythm. It’s not my thing. Each time Buffy would start a new move I’d watch her, concentrating, trying to pick up steps of the move and the beat of the song and then jump into motion. I was terrible at it. Terrible to the point that the class held me down on the floor and put a stick in my mouth so I didn’t bite off my tongue during what they thought was a seizure. It wasn’t. I was just that bad. I’m lucky they didn’t send me to a psych ward for being a danger to myself or others. I was the equivalent of someone who doesn’t know how to swim being thrown into the ocean. I just flailed about and waited for the end.

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