Book Review: ‘What Would Skeletor Do?: Diabolical Ways to Master the Universe’ by Robb Pearlman

What Would Skeletor Do? is a a self-help and life advice book by none other than Skeletor himself. Well, at least it is Robb Pearlman writing as Skeletor because sadly, Skeletor isn’t real.

It’s a pretty funny book, overall.

Although, it’s more or less a picture book with some captions. Each page or spread is an image from the He-Man and the Masters of the Universe or She-Ra Princess of Power cartoons from the ’80s. Accompanying each page is a blurb where Skeletor gives you some sort of wise advice on how to better yourself and on how to master your own universe.

That’s pretty much it. It’s nothing fantastic but it’s still a very quick and entertaining read, especially for He-Man fans.

Rating: 6.5/10
Pairs well with: other books from the Masters of the Universe franchise.

Retro Relapse: The Fitness of the Modern Man

RETRO RELAPSE is a series of older articles from various places where I used to write before Talking Pulp.

*Written in 2014.

You go to the gym, you lift, you spin, you even hit a speedy blue ball with a racket. Sometimes you run, sometimes you swim and sometimes you stair climb. You eat celery and tuna and only drink water and protein powder mixed with water. You tore your half-shirt last week when flexing in front of the mirror for a Vine. All that is great and fantastic but compared to the men of ancient times, you’re a pussy.

Don’t worry, it’s cool, I know that in this regard, I’m a pussy too – it is what it is.

The fact of the matter is, no matter how many crunches you do or how many power squats you scream through, some ancient Mongol savage could probably conquer a dozen of us in about 30 seconds. We’d be nothing but easy-to-kill food for all the old school warriors of every badass race in history. And no matter how hard we work to improve ourselves, we’d never be more than a sandwich or a nuisance to those people. Their world is gone but if they still existed and hadn’t evolved into us, they’d pillage the shit out of us in no time.

You see, it doesn’t matter how strong you are or how fit you are, you’re still doing it all wrong. And that’s okay because as society has evolved, we don’t need to be rabid beasts roaming the desolate wilderness for a minute form of anything considered sustenance. We no longer have to hunt and gather and thus, life is pretty fucking easy.

Apart from that, we no longer have to find ourselves in constant battle with neighboring tribes who want our land, our food, our water and our women. We don’t have to be on edge constantly because we have a society that is organized and for the most part, civil. We have air conditioning, hot water, television, movies, the Internet, fast food on every corner, a Starbucks wedged between every corner and a multitude of vices we can use to distract ourselves from a world that is nowhere near as tough as it used to be. Shit’s simple.

Looking at the Aztecs, Vikings, Mongols, Apaches, Spartans, Medieval knights, musketeers, Roman gladiators, Ming Dynasty warriors, Rajputs, old school Persians, Comanches, Centurions, Zandas, Maoris, Samurai and Ninjas we’re just fucked. Even Neanderthals would probably just grab us and crush our heads between their palms like the Hulk trying to squash a grape. And the truth is, these guys didn’t work out. They didn’t need to. Their whole existence was a workout. Us modern men, if we’re on top of things, schedule an hour (maybe two) to go to the gym and maximize our time in that short of a window.

The thing though, is that modern men aren’t training for the oncoming wrath of another warrior tribe, they are training to look good above all else. It’s a fashion show and a lifting competition; it’s no longer about survival. Apart from athletes who work out and train for performance or badass motherfuckers like the Green Beret, Navy SEALs or Delta Force, fitness has become a dick wagging contest. Sure, some people do it for health. In fact, most people claim it’s for health. Reality dictates something different than the rhetoric though when you see swollen dudes screaming at each other pressing bars with hundreds of pounds on them all in an effort to impress and outshine their fellow dude brahs.

I’m not saying that this is wrong or trying to paint it as silly or pointless. Truth is, I want to bench press school buses and have the physique of Dwayne Johnson. I think ultimately, most guys would want that (and many women too). I’m just not going to kid myself and pretend that I’m some Herculean barbarian that could eat an entire village for brunch and make a stew out of their weakling souls. As hard as any of us work, unless we are living in a cave whittling battle axes with our teeth and walking 30 miles per day over mountains and through swamps to find 4 oz. of protein, we’ll never be what we were.

But that’s okay, as a society, we’ve earned our much easier lifestyle. We’ve evolved to not have to be the barbarians of old. However, those old habits are still ingrained in our DNA. At a primal level, we probably are still fighting for survival despite the theatrics. Additionally, we’re still competitive because that’s what we are.

Keep working out, stay healthy, eat good but maybe cut out the effeminate low calorie beers because Mic Ultra would just piss off the brutes of old.

In the end, live a long and prosperous life because we deserve it. It was the old warrior and barbarian ways that led to our success and the luxury of not having to remain warriors and barbarians. Let’s just hope that a magical rift in time doesn’t appear because then we’d just be the meat in a Viking omelette.

Retro Relapse: An Economics Lesson for Anti-Capitalist Strippers

RETRO RELAPSE is a series of older articles from various places where I used to write before Talking Pulp.

*Written in 2011.

It is no secret to those who know me, I love spending quality time and a good chunk of change at the strip club. Those chicks fucking love me, especially after Christmas bonus time! Well, they act like they love me, which I am totally fine with because while they are acting like they are into me, I am acting like I am into them when all I really want is to grab a few titties, slap a few butt-cheeks and have my cock attacked by gyrating asses. A girl that really knows how to utilize her knees during a lap dance really gets my wallet’s respect (hint, hint to you strippers reading this).

In the past, I have been engaged to a few strippers because on more than one occasion, a night of drunken debauchery, capitalized on by yours truly ballin’ outta control, has led to genuine feelings shared amongst myself and a few of these ladies. I’m not talking feelings grown out of monetary exchange, I am talking about two people connecting and finding some common ground and understanding. Granted these situations never panned out, as most strippers are flakes in the real world and I am hard to please and easily irritated but it doesn’t mean that I don’t wish them well. In fact, I have tried to help many understand how they could make a shit ton of cash but usually my economic lectures are interrupted by another stripper walking up to steal me away from the one I’m talking to or by some generic crunk song forcing the stripper on my lap to act like a trained monkey dancing for treats.

I have given this lesson to many but only a few have listened. However those who have listened have made a fuckload of bank! See, I have a very simple plan, one that could provide strippers with the riches they so desire and often times try to get by latching on like parasitic lampreys whenever they discover a guy who seemingly has a bottomless bank account. Fuck those guys, your plan of seductively siphoning off their riches never works out to your benefit, at least not long-term. Rich dudes are completely fucking unreliable. The only person you can rely on is yourself. Only when you break through and shatter your anti-capitalistic mentality and look at your “assets” as a real business, will you be able to transform your lackadaisical and often times inebriated work ethic into a lucrative and promising career. Wouldn’t you like to be a millionaire before the strip club owner pushes you out on your 30th birthday? Well, this is a lesson on how to do just that.

In the area that I live, strippers work for bargain prices, so my neck of the woods actually provides me with a good example. If you make more for your services than the girls do in my area, adjust your math accordingly.

In my town, strippers typically charge twenty dollars per lap dance. I have been to places where the prices are as high as forty to fifty bucks a lap dance. I refuse to pay that. Not because I am cheap but because I don’t find the exchange of that amount of money to be equal to the service provided. Maybe I am just spoiled in my neck of the woods with our twenty dollar lap dances but hey, why pay fifty for one when in most towns you can get a b.j. for less? Hell, I know a girl that gives $10 handjobs. Not that I would want a cheap b.j. or handjob, I’m just trying to put the cost of competing services into perspective. Now back to my point.

A lap dance is twenty dollars ($20). That twenty-dollar lap dance usually lasts about three-to-four minutes. Let’s round up to four (4) minutes to have the numbers nice and round. So if a stripper performs five (5) consecutive lap dances that amounts to one hundred dollars ($100).. cha-ching! That’s one hundred bucks made in twenty (20) minutes, as 4 (minutes) times 5 (lap dances) is equal to twenty (minutes). Since twenty minutes is a third of an hour, multiply these numbers by three (3). The total money made in twenty minutes is $100, so the total money made in one hour would be $300! If a stripper works non-stop, she can make $300 per hour! Fuck getting that psychology degree you are all supposedly working so hard for at the community college!

And real estate licenses? Shit, the best real estate per square foot is any lap you’re grinding on.

Granted, a stripper can’t work non-stop. I mean, they do have to go on stage every hour or so for at least two songs. They also have to go to the back to freshen up and either get a swig of water or vodka. God forbid they dehydrate. So for reality’s sake, let’s say that she can squeeze in at least a half hour of real work, she is still averaging $150 an hour! Keep in kind, that this is a stripper at a $20 per dance rate. If you charge $40 per dance, you’re back up to $300 per hour! If you’re a $50 per dance stripper, you’re averaging $375 per hour! Those rare dancers in the really high-end clubs that can get $60 per dance from the high rollers will average $450 per hour! I wish I were a chick so I could hustle these horny motherfuckers and bank some serious cheese.

The craziest part is that strippers don’t just work for an hour, well technically they are at the club for more than an hour if they show up on time and don’t get sent home early. If they keep hustling during those hours, this hard earned cash will multiply with ease. If a stripper can maintain this pace, she’ll be rich in no time. Now, I know that there are peak times and low times during the day but if you have the looks and the tools, you should be able to get the attention of every dude that walks through that front door. Run that club and be the “go to” chick. It ain’t a hard thing to achieve, you just have to not look like ass and you have to make an effort to please and be pleasant and classy at the same time. No dude wants to continually throw money away on a hood rat. Stop acting like a dickhead, ladies, and get your shit together. Moving on!

If a chick works, say an 8-hour shift, and maintains her money making pace, she’ll walk away with $1,200 that day! Sounds crazy but strippers I’ve coached in the basics of economics have pulled this off. Sure, there are days where this won’t happen but one girl I talk to told me that she can pull this off about three times a week, when she works five to six shifts. If you can hustle like her, you can get paid! Am I sounding like an infomercial for a bullshit product yet? Really though, I ain’t selling anything, all this knowledge is free! Well, maybe you can hook me up with a few lap dances next time we meet, as a courtesy of course.

So my girl that was able to hit the $1,200 mark was also able to average this three times a week. That comes out to $3,600 a fucking week! That ass is expensive! Think about that number for a minute. You could pay for your titties in one week!

Now most of us are aware that there are 52 weeks in a year. If you multiply $3,600 (per week) by 52 (all the weeks in a year) you could hit $187,200 in a single year! This is before taxes and shit but who really claims all of their “tips”? Also, this is before you have to pay your dues to the club owner and DJ and whoever else, depending upon your establishments set up.. but damn! $187k a year is over 18 times more than the poverty level!

In five years, at this pace, you could earn $936,000! That is just shy of a million dollars! If you push even a little harder, you could be a millionaire in five years. Fuck that club owner, you could buy his ass out and run that shit the way it should be run. Hell, that might actually be a bad idea because you may just want to focus on shaking that ass because that ass is one hell of a bread-earner.

In ten years, you could earn about 1.9 million dollars! So if you started stripping at 18, by the age of 28 you could have nearly 2 million dollars. Do you know what you could do with that much money? This is considering you didn’t blow it on drugs, asshole parasite boyfriends or Hello Kitty sandwich makers. The truth is, your ass can make you rich.

So why are strippers usually broke and always whining to you about it? Quite simply, they have the shittiest work ethic I have ever seen. Some of them are there to please but half the time they are socializing with you, it is a waste. They are either trying to get you to buy them appletinis or Chinese food. Often times, the customer has to ask them for a dance, as they are too busy gossiping with regulars who are just there to drink. Otherwise, they are just bumming cigarettes while rolling their eyes whenever another stripper (who is hustling) walks by with a customer in hand. If you don’t get off of your fucking asses and try to sell your products and services, the competition will crush you and the opportunities and most importantly the money will continue to pass you by. The knowledge I have shared here is literally a million times more valuable than any dollar bill I have shoved in your black light reactive panties.

Do you want to be a winner or do you want to debate with yourself if you should quit and go back to Hot Topic because you feel that you were better off there at $7.25 an hour? At least the assistant manager from Spencer’s thought you were cute enough to buy you a smoothie everyday. Fuck all of that, it would take about 3 hours of shitty menial work at Hot Topic just to equal the $20 you could make in 4 minutes at the strip club. Do the fucking math.

You have also got to stop with the negativity and bullshit excuses. I’ve heard it all before. If you know that you are good at what you do, why the fuck are you working in a club that barely gets any customers? I’ve heard the day shift excuse too. You’re only on day shift for one of three reasons. The first, you are getting old. The second, you are a newbie. The third, you aren’t pulling your weight. If you were the top attraction, you’d be working the prime schedule. Even then, if you get the prime shifts and the customers just aren’t there to make it lucrative for you, go work at another club. Hell, move to a bigger town and get a job there. If you are better than most, you will make more than them. If this is what you do for a living, make it your fucking passion. If it isn’t, get out and go do something else. Take pride in what you do or don’t do it. PERIOD! If you take pride and have the work ethic to hustle, you will do what you have to do to make it big. Free market ass is where it’s at!

I’ve given you the keys to success here. All you’ve got to do is work it and work it well! If you’re on drugs, stop using them at the office. If you spend more time drinking with desensitized regulars than looking for the steady flow of new paying clients, stop it and switch your game up. If you’re spending more time gossiping with the other girls or whining to customers about your prick boyfriend, you will never succeed at the level you could. All it takes is effort; the problem is that most strippers seemingly don’t have any. Instead of taking that as an insult, any stripper with half a brain should look at that fact as an advantage. Your competition is easy pickins. So pick away, hustle and count that paper.

You’re fucking welcome.

Retro Relapse: Men Who Can’t Handle Ribbing

RETRO RELAPSE is a series of older articles from various places where I used to write before Talking Pulp.

*Written in 2014.

I’ve come across an epidemic lately. This epidemic just happens to be incredibly sensitive males who aren’t able to deal with good old fashioned ribbing.

What is ribbing? Well, if you don’t know, Google’s dictionary defines it as “good-natured teasing.”

Growing up, and I thought this was the same for all males, I often times found myself being teased or ribbed by many of my male friends and classmates. To be clear, it wasn’t bullying, it was mostly humorous banter and pranks that didn’t hurt or maim anyone physically or emotionally. In fact, to keep it fair, everyone got their fair share of ribbing in and got their fair share of being ribbed. It was a trade off and everyone was game for the sport.

Usually, if you ribbed someone, it meant that you were friends. It showed that someone was worth your time for you to put an effort into messing with them. With it came a code; one knew that if you ribbed someone, they’d certainly rib you back. Sometimes things would escalate but never did they cross a line into bullying or truly hurting someone, at least they shouldn’t have. That goes away from the essence of it being good-natured and fun. Anything mean-spirited usually ended up leading to a punch in the face or at the very least, friends no longer being friends. In my experience, if someone did cross a line, the other friends usually stepped in to squash it before it became a problem. It is all just a primal thing that males do; we’re always competing with one another but we also want peace within our own tribe.

To those who may be confused at the difference between ribbing and bullying, just watch films like The Goonies and Monster Squad to see how groups of young males talk to one another. Hell, look at the kids in E.T. As a kid who was both ribbed and bullied, I always understood the difference. There are things your friends can do and say that others can’t. They get away with it because they’re your friends and at the end of the day, you know they’ve got your back regardless. They’re allowed certain privileges that other kids weren’t allowed. This also carries over into adulthood.

Ribbing was important for a young boy. In my case, it strengthened my bond with my friends and gave us a sense of camaraderie that we wouldn’t have had otherwise. Some of those bonds survived for a long time and some didn’t. However, those I ribbed the most and vice versa, are still my strongest allies in life.

Over the last few years, a lot of newer guys I’ve met and become friends with, don’t seem to understand the dynamic of ribbing. I really think that many of them don’t know what it is or that just poking some good-natured fun at them is bully behavior. Honestly, I don’t even know if they think that far. They just seem to be reactionary and big sourpusses about the whole thing. It’s as if you’re ruining their game or something, even if they aren’t anywhere near a lady they’re trying to swoon. It’s like adult males, over the years, have developed some sort of faux suave sense of self and if you just so happen to tease them, you’re throwing rocks at their house of cards. God forbid someone completely exposes them as something less than perfect and swashbuckingly debonaire.

There are also the other type of guys who are just so damn sensitive that they take the littlest jab to heart. “Oh my god, he called my beard “patchy”, everyone is going to laugh at me till the end of time!” “He pointed out that I’ve gained a little weight, I’ll never get laid again!” “He doesn’t like my new glasses, he’s not my friend!” These guys just need to man the fuck up.

With both groups of guys, I see two types of responses. The first is that they just shutdown and go back into their fear turtle shell to hide until you’re long gone. The other response is they usually up the ante and go way over the top with their ribbing response. They go somewhere mean-spirited and usually throw a hard uppercut in what should just be a sparring match. Usually, their response isn’t clever or funny, it’s just some dude bro dick-wagging talk that comes from a place of insecurity and anger.

For example, I could say, “Hey dude, what’s with the Beiber haircut?” The insecure ante-upper would then say something like, “Fuck you faggot, I fucked your stupid girlfriend in the ass!” Yeah, usually these guys think words like “faggot” and “homo” are the ultimate burns to men and don’t understand that they’re complete bigoted assholes for saying them. They also don’t understand that my comment was an indirect way of trying to give them advice on their girly haircut. I could be a bit nicer and more direct and say, “Hey dude, I think your hair is too effeminate for a straight guy trying to attract females.” The problem is, they’d still react like a sensitive pussy trying to hide behind some bullshit machismo shtick. It is their hyper-defensive way.

I notice this a lot more in the younger generation. It doesn’t mean that my generation is oblivious too it. I’ve come across many thirtysomething males that are completely taken off guard by a good rib. I also find those poor saps who always want to dish it out but can’t take it themselves. I have a few bosses who always want to be one of the guys and rib their co-workers and employees but if the gesture is returned, they act like toddlers who lost their teddy bear.

Maybe ribbing was just an art that has somehow started to vanish. Anti-bullying is big in our culture, as is political correctness and feminist single mothers training their boys to be more sensitive. I understand that these things are social responses to negative aspects of our past societal idiosyncrasies but as humans always do, our responses have gone too far in the other direction.

Well, at least I can still hang out with old dudes at the barber shop and participate in their classic O.G. style of ribbing. Unfortunately, old school barber shops are dying out too.

Retro Relpase: Hey There, Mr. Movember

RETRO RELAPSE is a series of older articles from various places where I used to write before Talking Pulp.

*Written in 2014.

It is just about that time of year again, where us bodaciously bearded man-beasts have to deal with some amateur wannabes trying their damnedest to attempt at being manly men for thirty days.

Let me start by saying that I’m all for supporting the right kind of causes. What Movember supports is a bit confusing as it is a collage of manly health issues. Honestly, it just seems like a disorganized clusterfuck that claims it is drawing attention to “man problems” while used as a smokescreen for some guys to actually fulfill two agendas.

One: it gives bitchmen the ability to feel like tough guys because they have charity as an excuse to grow really shitty mustaches that make them look like perverts.

Two: it gives bitchmen a reason to embrace other bitchmen because if women have their pinkie breast month in October, they should have their prepubescent middle schooler facial hair love fest to raise money for a multitude of random man things.

I’m all for bringing some much needed attention to the issues on an individual basis but it is hard to ascertain just what the fuck is going on when there is just a bunch of shit tossed into a basket. This just perpetuates the “fight for the cause” herd mentality that a lot of Americans have.

What I am talking about is how most people see a cause or hear about a cause and just jump on it and never actually look into it to see if it is really worthwhile and not a waste of time. Many people tend to be afflicted with a chronic guilty conscious and need to ease that guilt by feeling like they are doing something positive. They don’t really care if they are actually doing anything or not. As long as they participate in some way, they can pretend their guilt is gone – only for it to return with a lot more weight next time around.

I can’t count how many times I’ve seen some prepubescent pervert-looking jackass in November and asked, “So why are you attempting to grow a mustache?” Only to get a response like, “It’s for the cause, man!”

“Yeah? What cause?”
“You know, Movember!”
“What about it? What does this help?”
“I think it’s for cancer?”
“So you don’t know exactly? How is your mustache helping whatever the actual cause is?”
“It’s bringing awareness to it?”
“How? You don’t even know what it is actually bringing awareness to?”
“Yeah, dude! But it’s Movember, bra! Fuck the world, right?!”

This is a guy that owns a “Kony 2012” shirt because he thought that he would be a better choice for president than Barack Obama last election cycle. This guy also dumped a bunch of ice on his head two months ago because he thought it somehow raised awareness for.. I don’t know.. what was that thing again? ALS? American League Soccer?

I know that I am coming off as a complete dick. I’m fine with that. I just want to see people become aware and knowledgeable of what it is exactly that they are supporting. I’d prefer to live in a world where people don’t just jump on the bandwagon because some fucking celebrity and all their non-critical thinking friends are all trying to alleviate the guilt in their empty viral age souls.

If you believe in a cause, then fucking believe in it. It’s not some fun thing where you get to pretend you’re a manly man for thirty days only to countdown till December 1st, just so you can shave your lip because your false badge of manhood is too much for you to handle. And if you truly want to support the cause, you don’t grow a fucking mustache and call it a day. You donate money, raise money, volunteer your time and actually effect the cause in a tangible and positive way. People dying of ass cancer (and a bunch of other causes) isn’t just some reason to adopt a monthly mustache fad once a year. You’re a joiner and a sheep in a world where the shepherds themselves are blind.

If the cause is truly important to you, be a fucking leader. If it isn’t that important to you, don’t pretend that it is.

Additionally, real men who find these things important are doing their part. They don’t need to play dress up and look like they taped daddy’s shaved off whiskers to their face. In fact, most of these real men are probably sporting real beards and gnawing on a bison leg as they toss their hard-earned shillings into a bag and mail it off directly to the cause.

I’ve made it my personal mission not to just ignore the do-nothing pube faces, but I’ve also decided to really look at all the stuff that is included in this Movember collage, learn what each cause does and then look to see what they would do with my money and decide if it is worth sending them a personal check – directly and without third parties and marketing firms as middle men. And yes, I said “money”. Because you can’t pay for stuff by just growing out your girl ‘stache.

Maybe I will write about my findings at a later date, in an effort to shed some light on these various organizations out there trying to help the many men’s health issues.

At the end of the day, I always think about this though:

Why is there an organization for breast cancer, another for lung cancer, one for prostate cancer and others for every other type of cancer? Why don’t they all band together and put all their resources and money to use for one huge cause: CURING CANCER? All of it! Not ass cancer, titty cancer or lung cancer but CANCER!

The answer to this is simple, because each and every cause is a big business. While some may be ethical and ran with great intentions, many are not – even if they started out that way. That is why you really need to know how your dollar is being spent. But then, most people don’t even go that far because growing a few rat pubes on their lip is enough to make them feel like a hero until the next fad comes along in a month.

Book Review: ‘Stan Lee’s How to Write Comics’ by Stan Lee & Robert Greenberger

Since How to Draw Comics the Marvel Way rarely left my side in my adolescent and early teen years, I wanted to check out Stan Lee’s other books on creating comics.

This was the first more modern volume I’ve read. He put out a few through Dynamite Entertainment about a decade ago and I’d like to work my way through them.

What drew my interest to this one, in particular, is that it was focused on writing. So obviously, I wanted to soak up all of Stan the Man’s advice, as I’ve created comic books in the past and plan to work on a few in the future.

While this book definitely has Stan steering the ship, a lot of it features advice from a myriad of comic book creatives. Stan does a superb job of organizing the advice of others and presenting it at the right time to help hammer home some of his points. But he also allows for others’ perspectives to be heard.

This book probably isn’t interesting to those who don’t want to write comics but it is chock full of great advice for those that do.

It’s not life changing for would be writers but it is informative and a good primer on how to write specifically for comics and the pros and cons of different writing methods.

Rating: 7/10
Pairs well with: How to Draw Comics the Marvel Way, Stan Lee’s How to Draw Comics and Stan Lee’s How to Draw Superheroes.

Retro Relapse: Juicing & Cigarettes

RETRO RELAPSE is a series of older articles from various places where I used to write before Talking Pulp.

*Written in 2014.

I’m going to try and keep this one short and sweet.

Juicing is a huge trend that is going on right now. After that Fat, Sick & Nearly Dead movie, everyone in America seems to be buying into the hype.

Granted, juicing has been around for decades but it has seen a big resurgence since that film came out a few years ago. I’ll admit, I watched it, I was touched about the guy’s struggle and how drinking 250 gallons of kale every day and never touching actual food helped him lose weight and all that. But then, starving yourself is probably going to lead to weight loss.

Personally, I tried juicing. Not as a complete meal replacement system where I did nothing but juice morning, noon and night. I just wanted to get some vitamins straight from the source in a quest to be healthier overall. I made some juices, drank them and then felt like I needed to puke. The aftertaste was disgusting, it was like a tree came to life and puked down my throat! In the end, I quit juicing pretty quickly and switched to taking a multivitamin and eating more vegetables: problem solved. Besides that, the more I read about juicing, the more I saw that it was a waste of time and pretty much crap, like all trendy diets, really. Here‘s Rational Wiki’s entry about juicing.

This post isn’t about my history with juicing, it is about hypocrisy and body image issues. This goes out to all the pretty girls I see walking out of Whole Foods sucking down their juice. Well, not all the pretty girls, just the ones who are violently puffing cigarettes between each sip of plant piss.

I don’t get the point. You juice religiously every day and yet you smoke cigarettes like a World War II sailor? You do understand that this is pretty counterproductive, right? You juice for super health but then you voluntarily suck down chemicals and smoke which are going to lead to some of the worst health problems that one can have.

I get it though, you hardcore bitches want to look good right now and juicing does that. However, the cigarette just enhances your hardcore bitchness and god forbid you don’t come off as hardcore. Well that, and you probably can’t quit smoking because it’s really hard.

You see, you’re motivated to take the steps to work on your outer beauty and perceived health but when it comes to what’s inside, you treat it like a chemical waste plant. But hey, no one can see what’s inside and it won’t prevent you from being viewed as a dynamite sex vixen. In fact, cigarettes are fucking sexy. They’ve been ingrained in pop culture material since the early 20th century, maybe even the 19th century. Old school classic chicks smoking these cancerous death sticks in black and white is a turn on, I’ll admit it. It is also fantasy. Movies aren’t real and marketing is pretty much a bunch of bullshit. Trust me, I’ve worked in marketing for well over a decade. I’ve also worked in the tobacco industry, so there’s that too.

What is it that makes you so obsessed with outer beauty and looks but makes you seemingly uncaring about what’s inside? You’re playing Russian roulette with your health but as long as you look hot on the outside for a few years before all the bad shit creeps up on you, I guess that’s okay, right?

I’m certainly not a pillar of health but I’ve made some drastic changes over the last year or so and it is about moving forward. It’s hard to completely change oneself overnight but take the right steps, if you truly do value your health. I drink bourbon, smoke cigars, eat fatty meats and all that other man shit but I have significantly cut back in the last few years because I realized that due to the fact that I love all that stuff, I’d like to live a lot longer and enjoy it for more years to come. That means moderation.

What moderation has taught me, is that I enjoy these things even more when I have them now because they’re more of a treat than just everyday things I do. They’ve regained their luster.

As for smoking cigarettes, I still do that sometimes when I’m drinking heavily and socially. But since I don’t drink too heavily anymore, I don’t think I’ve even had a cigarette in over a year.

If you’re going to buy into the myth that juicing is some magic fix-all, you should probably quit smoking outright.

Realistically, juicing isn’t a magic fix-all like most fad diets, which I plan to write about in a future article. Besides, juicing is already kind of gross, so why add smoking to it? I certainly don’t want to make out with a girl that tastes like tree farts, chemicals and soot.