WEARING YOUR MITT TO A BIG LEAGUE GAME IF YOU’RE OVER 13

When you begin to grow hair around and sometimes on your schmekel you have a certain responsibility not to act like a boob. Many parents don’t teach that important rule. Tweenagers should be told to wear a glove in the bedroom and not at the ballpark. It’s responsible parenting 101. There is no greater feeling than holding a full beer in one hand and a home run in the other. Your bareback catch will make kids see you as a superhero and grownups admire your commitment to keeping every drop of the liquid gold in your cup. The $8 price tag on that Coors Light will give you that much more incentive. Even the ballplayers will take a timeout from roid-rage to toss you a respectful head nod. Heck, it could even land you on Sportscenter, especially if you catch the ball right in front of a kid’s face. But don’t try for that move. There’s too much downside in a failed attempt.

MY PHILIP MORRIS STOCK

Cigarette smoke may cause lung cancer, heart disease and fetal injury but it does wonders for my bank account. That is, until recently. Look no further than their corporate website to see an immediate problem. It clearly states that the best thing to do is quit. I’m no marketing whiz, but reverse psychology seems like a bad way to go during these volatile economic times. People might take it seriously. Is that a risk we’re willing to take as conscientious shareholders? See, when people quit smoking they don’t have to buy any more cigs and when they don’t buy any more cigs that means I don’t buy any more gold watches. And papa needs his gold watches. Plus, what up, Australia? Their socialist government has plans to strip company logos from cigarette packages and replace them with grisly images of cancerous mouths, sickly children and bulging, blinded eyes. That ain’t gonna move cartons. I think we need to get back to cool and lovable cartoons that make “adults” feel good about rippin’ a butt from time to time. Say what you will about Joe Camel, but he looked good with a choke in one hand and a pool cue in the other. If Mr. Helmut Wakeham hasn’t died from enjoying life yet, I say get him back:

JOINT COUPLE EMAIL ADDRESSES

Why not just get joint underpants while you're at it? I'm not saying you need to keep secrets, but sometimes you need to keep secrets, you know what I'm saying? Email systems should be required to issue warnings when they sense these addresses: We have detected a joint couple address, are you sure you want to send? If you hit yes it should send you another one that says: Are you absolutely sure? Why are you even friends with these people? Then it should wait a day and send you another one that simply says: Seriously, dude? Why even have an email address at that point? It’s tough to catch up on correspondence when you’re constantly locked in a loving gaze with your significant other. You’re not going to be checking out Uncle Steve’s beautiful pictures of Alaska when you have all the Eskimo kisses you can handle right in front of you. It’s a free country, so do what you want, but I’m just saying it’s the first step on a long path leading to the applying of preparation-H onto one another’s underbums.

PREGNANT MANNEQUINS

Even if the boobs are awesome.

LEAVING DINNER PARTIES

Extricating yourself from a dinner party can be an arduous, multi-step process. Experience, planning, verbal sprightliness and a devious spirit are all arrows you’ll need for your quiver. Read the following carefully, stay vigilant and you’ll be watching TV in your underwear before you know it.

Let’s begin at the beginning. Step 1 involves stealthy nonverbal communication with your significant other. The goal here is to communicate a desire to leave without tipping off your hosts and fellow attendees. Widen your eyes, raise your eyebrows and quickly nod in the general direction of the front door.

You’re now ready to move on to step 2. Begin dropping hints about how much crap you have to do the next day. Have real examples at the ready–you’ll surely be asked. That seed may be planted, but it still needs water to grow. Enter step 3: a sincere yawn followed by a quick apology. If this isn’t artfully executed it will be correctly construed as rude and immediately put you in Dutch with the little lady.

Then you have to eat dessert, step 4. Keep in mind you’re still 45 minutes from starting the car. Here is where I want to see you playfully deflecting board game advances. One effective technique is to inform everyone that "it might be a little much on this particular evening, but next time they're all going down!" You’re doing great.

Which brings us to step 5, where we up the heat. Get aggressive with a firm but friendly "well honey, I think we better call it a night." This must be impeccably timed. Don't make the rookie mistake of thinking you’re out of the woods yet because you’re headed for the buzz saw known as step 6: the inside goodbyes.

Try to do your inside goodbyes as close to the door as possible. There will be more chitchat about how great the food was and vague plans about when you can all get together again. Traditionally, this can be a prickly phase, especially if kids are involved. They can derail everything you’ve worked for up to this point. Suddenly little Timmy could find the inspiration for an impromptu performance. This can be prevented by slipping a small amount of crushed Ambien in his food earlier in the evening. Please note: this highly advanced maneuver must only be performed by men with at least ten years of marriage under their belts.

Welcome to step 7, the front porch goodbye. This usually goes quickly, but stay away from wormhole topics such as work, sports or politics. If the women are close, step 8 means a walk-you-to-your-car goodbye. This can last anywhere from 5 to 16 minutes. After that it’s smooth sailing. Get home, take your pants off and celebrate a lovely evening and another successful evacuation.

THE BACK CORNER BUS SEAT

I would venture to guess that the chasm between what I imagine goes on back there and what actually takes place is a small one indeed. Here's a list of what I’m pretty sure happens in this seat:

Gang related activity

Hobo Masturbation

Excrement handling and/or flinging

Teenage HJ’s

Criminal activity resulting in blood

Farting

Something involving menstruation

Satanic and/or religious graffiti

Reading of The Wall Street Journal

Heroin injection

Booger picking, rolling and flicking

Booger picking and smearing

The whispering of sexual advances and/or death threats.

Peeing

Something having to do with HIV

The lingering odor of death

JARRING ITUNES LIBRARY TRANSITIONS

It’s a true joy to shut off shuffle and plow through an entire record, just as the artist intended. It’s music’s version of reading a book. In fact, you can get so immersed you lose track of the last song. That’s when Bel Biv Devoe’s “Poison” comes out of nowhere and hits you like a ton of bricks. Here are the most jarring transitions in my iTunes library:

Beirut to Bel Biv Devoe

Ben Folds Five to Beyonce

Billie Holiday to Billy Idol

The Black Angels to The Black Eyed Peas

Bob Marley to Bobby Brown

Bon Iver to Bone Thugs & Harmony

Chuck Mangione to Chumbawamba

Danger Mouse & Daniele Luppi to Darryl Hall & John Oates

Dead Confederate to Dean Martin

Devotchka to Dexy's Midnight Runners

Elvis Presley to Eminem

Fang Island to Fat Joe

Frightened Rabbit to Fu-Schnickens

George Clinton to George Winston

The Hold Steady to House of Pain

Led Zeppelin to Leona Lewis

Mumford and Sons to Murray Head

The National to Naughty By Nature to Neil Diamond