NEWSFLASH: Egg Consumption Proportionate to Ass Kicking Capacity

If you know me, you know I like science. I like developing an understanding of things using facts, numbers and proven knowledge (a good reason why I am allergic to religion).

Hopefully then you can appreciate my newest scientific discovery: I have determined a pretty reliable formula for determining how much ass I will kick on any given day using...wait for it...egg consumption. 

It's remarkably simple.

But, it has taken months of trial and error to reach my final, scientifically sound conclusion. I never had this kind of luck when I was trying to prove what color boxers enriched my testosterone levels the most [that's a shame, too - as I believe the correlation IS THERE].

 This all started when I was on the road, travelling for work, and staying at a Hilton hotel somewhere in dumbfuckistan - not that it matters where. Hilton has some badass breakfasts, just so you know. They don't mess around when it comes to self-serve cereal silos, just as an example.

Anyway, I was fueling up one morning on my trip, eating my standard fare: A bagel, maybe some yogurt and a black coffee. But then...I spied on the breakfast table some delicious looking eggs, innocently steaming in their comfy, heated stainless steel food service tray.

 Mmm...look at them. They're resplendent. Fluffy, not overcooked, and with a slight garnish of diced chives. So tempting. So sinfully magnetic...if I didn't know better I would think a charm spell was cast on them by some wizard's apprentice who liked practicing on breakfast food. 

So what the hell. I figured I'd eat some eggs. I got myself a healthy scoopful. Nothing over-the-top...probably 2 eggs worth. I thought nothing of it. I went on about my day thinking it would be just another 24 hours of being relatively awesome.

I didn't really expect what happened next...

Around an hour after my breakfast, I dropped my pen AND THEN CAUGHT IT ON ITS WAY DOWN.

No big deal, right...I just got lucky...

Then, I suddenly remembered the 5th digit of pi after the decimal (9).

Hmm...that's odd...

And THEN, this smoking hot girl at a stoplight I was at raised her sunglasses and made direct eye contact with me (and trust me, my rental vehicle at the time was NOT THAT SEXY).

Ok, something is definitely going on here...

I got to thinking. What is different about today? I'm not wearing my lucky tie...and I haven't sacrificed any small animals to Cthulu in the past 12 hours...so what gives?

AHA! THOSE MOTHER FUCKING EGGS. It had to have been the eggs. I knew it!

But...it wasn't enough to go off a hunch. I needed to test my hypothesis. The next morning, I made my way down to the breakfast area with a clear plan. I would ingest exactly double the eggs I had the prior morning, and then gauge the level of ass kickery I experienced later in the morning.

And holy shit were they delicious. So yummy.

Sure enough...about an hour after leaving the hotel, bound for the airport, a series of quite notable events transpired:

1 - I didn't even need to use my GPS to get from the hotel to the Hertz return center. I EVEN LEFT MY PHONE OFF ENTIRELY. I know...shocking...

2 - I corrected a reference someone on the plane made to medieval England architecture.

3 - Driving back home while travelling at 80 miles per hour, I dodged a refrigerator box that was sitting in the middle of the freeway (it could have had a whole litter of puppies in it for all I know, right?!)

4 - Later in the day, I got hit on by not one, but TWO gay men in the gym. With 10 minutes of each other. WHAT THE FUCK!?

I had all the evidence I needed to conduct my final experiment - tripling the egg consumption. This was dangerous...because I didn't know what to expect. How much of a epic superstar Johnny Awesome would I become? Would I spontaneously develop a cure for AIDS and help a dozen old ladies across the street, all before noon? It was uncharted territory.

But, being a man of SCIENCE, I was ready to take the plunge.

Dear readers, I cannot disclose to you the exact results of this experiment, because frankly they're just way too astounding to believe.

I will just say this: for about 10 hours after eating 6 delicious eggs, I existed on a plane of consciousness that would impress even the most devout Shaolin monk. I also performed physical feats that others would only write about in their life memoirs.

You probably don't share my enthusiasm for scientific experimentation, reader. You probably don't even BELIEVE my claims here, but I don't care. Why?

BECAUSE I HAD 8 EGGS THIS MORNING, MOTHER FUCKER.

8.

There is literally nothing anyone can do to cramp my style this day. I am working on solving a 256-sided Rubik's cube at the moment and things are going well. I also just set up a date with a supermodel for later this evening. Oh and I just got a voicemail from Neil DeGrasse Tyson, asking if I would kindly share my knowledge with him, on the subject of gauging gravitational force wave distortions in super massive black holes.

I just had to type this out because I'm not one to keep my revelations bottled up inside.

If YOU found centuries-old Egyptian treasure hidden in your back yard, wouldn't YOU want to tell the world?

Steve Vai - A god among gods.

Not only does Steve Vai's playing ability rival even the BEST guitarists, but his humility and understanding of the entire musical endeavor is just simply awesome.

Check this out:



I love you Steve. :)

They have arrived. Genuine Oakley Frogskins from the 80's.

I don't know about you, but I was alive and well in the 80's.

It was a time of coin-operated video games, crazy hair styles and these - the baddest ass sunglasses ever produced by any company ANYWHERE - The Oakley Frogskins.

And now I have a pair.

AND - they're the 'Collector's Edition' with special green Iridium lenses.

My level of coolness has just notched up a point or ten. :)

Chronicle of St. Patty's Weekend, 2012 on the 16th Street Mall

Well I should SAY! I haven't had a more pleasant 48 hours in QUITE some time.

This weekend has been lovely. Lots of great weather, some awesome fans downtown paying well for my music...and killer motorcycle rides throughout. What could HONESTLY be needed here?

Friday night brought some interesting douche-bag grade characters out of the woodwork. There were quite a few fights along the 16th Street Mall, none of which were particularly entertaining.

This one dude took off his wifebeater and screamed, "SHOOT ME NOW MOTHER FUCKER!" at some other dude who apparently got all up in his business.

I guess that *was* kind of entertaining, in sort of a "wow-look-at-that-moron-with-innumerable-personal-issues" kind of way.

Saturday night --- last night --- was CRAZY drunk night. All the drunkies wearing green were frenzied and, thankfully, pretty spendy. I made a nice chunk of change off them, and they danced around my tip case pretending to be leprechauns all night.

Twas pleasant.

Aaaaand tomorrow it's back to reality.

*sigh*

Like my new ride?

IT FIRES CLOWNS.

After I die, I would like to be reincarnated as a glasswing butterfly, please.

The idea of having transparent body parts is QUITE FUCKING AWESOME.

So yesterday I quit Facebook. For realsies.

This is very liberating.

Now, when I open up my trusty little web browser, I have to remind myself that going to 'www.facebook.com' won't really do anything for me anymore.

I won't be seeing posts from people I hardly know, about inconsequential bullshit that never affects me.

I won't be advertised to by Facebook's partners. Nor will I unknowingly advertise to my 'friends' on behalf of said partners.

And by the way, this is permanent. There is no going back, and that itself is really pretty fucking awesome if you think about it.

I think I had like 120 friends or something like that. Women I've dated, old high school friends, some family members. That's it.

The ones who matter won't mind my absence on Facebook. They will be quite pacified, I'm sure, to keep our communications to the old-fashioned methods of e-mail and the occasional phone call.

So long, Facebook.

You have been unfriended.