First, I'd like to say thanks to those who read my last blog. I will say I am not exceedingly happy with it. Due in large part to the numerous errors it contains. My own fault. However, GS, due to the 20,000 character limit, will not allow me to make the edits I feel the blog should have. Namely, grammatical/spelling errors, a conclusion, and some smallchanges to the blog.

Because of this I feel the blog fails to be as entertaining and well thought out as it should have been.

Hopefully, the next one I produce will provide the "lulz" and a much better reading experience.

I hope to have it up within the next few weeks.

Being a man is a great thing. We are privy to a lot of testosterone, sweet facial hair, and glutes that could crack a walnut. But, being one is not as easy as the manliest of us make it look. From the time a man opens his eyes to the time his head hits the toilet at the end of the night he and all his manliness is on display for the world to see. It's not enough to just have man bits dangling about between your legs. Hell, if that is all it took every person with a Y chromosome would be a man. Sadly, this isn't so.

No. To be a man takes a strict adherence to a particular set of rules. Rules that have been passed down from the first real man so that future generations could learn the real meaning of manliness. That's why you are here; to learn how to be a man and that is why I present this guide to you. My wish is that you too may learn the great ways of men without the need for guesswork or apprenticeship. In this elite club called "Manhood" we do not tolerate deviations from the rules. More males have become non-men than males that have become men.

Unquestionable manliness. Oh yeah!

Think about that for a second.

That tells you we take our manhood seriously, and reserve the right to revoke the manliness of any man we feel is not living a manly enough life. So with the help of men all over the world I present to you a guide that lists the main tenants of manhood.

Rule 1: Thou shalt not don the Banana Hammock

There are times when you may want to visit some type of pool or beach or place that has water you can splash around in. A kiddy pool, for example. In these locations you often find women, children, and other males strutting about. Then you have that guy who walks around in a pair of latex briefs. Briefs so snug that they are compromising the circulation to the gentleman's groin area. As your eyebrows reach for the skies and your stomach retreats into your esophagus you realize something is amiss.

That's your inner-man fighting to urge to regurgitate.

Under no circumstances is it ever okay to wear a speedo. From the time of loin cloths and twine men knew better than to wear something that firmly gripped the butt-cheeks and smothered the genitals. If you ever wish to joins the enclave of manhood then you need to absolutely never wear this. Dear god, don't ever wear this.

Rule 2: The path that a man shall choose shall be born of his own mind, and no one else

Directions? Pfft, what are those?

You are Magellan. You are the human GPS. God has blessed you with an uncanny knack of knowing the exact location of everything in existence. When you drive the destination is wherever your car stops. Why? As a man you always know where you are going. You don't need Google maps or satellite positioning. All you need is an idea of where you want to go and a ride to get you there.

A man is to never ask directions from anyone. If you are going the wrong way you will keep going the wrong way until you arrive somewhere that resembles your original destination. If anyone has anything to say about it, put them out on the freeway and keep driving.

Rule 3: A man shan't ever look upon another while in the water closet

Ever heard the phrase, "Eyes front, soldier!"? Sure you have. Well, when you are in the bathroom that phrase becomes law. Absolute and infallible law.

It has happened to everyone. There is a guy in the stall adjacent to your own; completely smug and confident in his peeing. The bastard. Who the hell does he think he is? Better than you, that's what he is thinking. So, what do you do? You begin to figure, maybe you'll have a peek. Get an understanding of why this guy is so damn smug.

You raise your chin. You turn your head. You lean just enough…and you have just attempted to do what no man should ever do. What is wrong with you?! Have you no pride or shame?! You never, ever, under any circumstance attempt to scope out another man's package. There is no reason to ever do that. Even if you heard bells and show tunes coming from his stall then it would be almost okay to-

The guy on the right is definitely not a man.

Wait, no it wouldn't! You're sick! You keep your eyes focused on the tile wall directly ahead of you. A real man only cares about two penises: his own and that of his first son.

Rule 4: Praising one's male brethren should be done within the limits of man law

You ever get the urge to compliment another man on his shoes? His pants? Maybe the type of cologne he is currently wearing?

Well, stop it. That's not okay.

A man is only allowed to give another man a select few compliments. Feel free to compliment any of the following: his car, his dog, his TV, and/or his grill. We put a crap load of effort into our material possessions. So, every now and again it is great to hear how awesome our stuff is from another testosterone filled man sack.

Go ahead and stroke that man ego.

Rule 5: To make love is to forfeit the birthright bestowed upon thee by manhood.

This is your motto. Learn it. Live it. It's you.

No real man has ever made love. You are a sex machine. If it isn't capable of alerting the neighbor's to the potential of domestic abuse then it isn't sex.

Rule 6: A man shan't fornicate his friend's family for fear of ass whipping.

Yes, that's the actual proverb. There isn't much else to it. I can guarantee that if any of you asshats take to hitting on my little sister I'll take my foot and see that it becomes lodged in your poop chute. Family is off-limits unless the friend gives express written consent in front of a priest, while visiting the Vatican, on his birthday, during the Winter Solstice, while wearing a shirt that reads "I am totally okay with the thought of my friend making out with my sister. Seriously, I am perfect fine with it. Kthxbai"

If that occurs I guess then it's okay. But a real man would never do this.

Rule 7: The Brethren Code

There is a rule called the "Bro Code". This code states that a man is to put his male friends before any and all women for any and all reasons. The original "Bro Code" does not contain that exact wording. In fact, the original code says this:

Damn right! Unless...

A man is to put his male friends and their needs before that of any woman he is trying to get into bed. Unless, that woman is insanely hot. I mean, seriously, your friends would be total douches to try to get in front of you and a total 10. It is never okay for bros to invoke the "Bro Code" when you are chasing a woman that is a unanimous 10. A woman so hot other women check her out and then get mad at how good looking she is, and how they can never compare. In fact, if a friend does invoke the "Bro Code" at this point you are obligated, by the original code, to kill him. With a fork.

So, there you have it. The original code is quite different from the perverse version people have been using for the last few decades.

Rule 8: To notice another's groin is to hate all things good and pure. So sayeth the code.

No man ever is to notice when another man's fly is down. To do so is a direct insult to him, his family, and America.

There isn't much else to this. Do you hate your friend? Do you want his family to die? And has America ever done anything to hurt you? If the answer to all of those questions is "No" then you bet not ever tell another man his fly is down.

It's just not cool. Why are you even looking in that area?

Rule 9: Yet he was jealous, though he did not show it, For jealousy dislikes the world to know it

If you are with your girlfriend and you notice a man with a better body than you, insult his intelligence. If he is more intelligent, then insult his body. If he has a better body and is more intelligent than you produce an argument with your girlfriend and use that as a reason to get the hell out of there.

It's important to recognize the enemy.

There is no reason for a man to ever take that kind of abuse. You want your woman to focus on you and your physique. You do your best to stay in the shape she met you in or worse. Who does this tool think he is waltzing along the beach shirtless showing your woman what she could have with another man? **** that!

And you are to never, ever, tell your woman or even show her that you are jealous of another man. Hell, I wouldn't even call it jealousy. I'd say it is more akin to strategic love warfare. Real men strike preemptively when dealing with a potential threat.

Rule 10: The Law of Beasts

Everyman wants a pet. Having an animal in our home validates us as master's of our domain, lording over all that we see. However a man just can't go out and get whatever pet that he wants. There is a rule that men must follow. Males can do whatever the hell they want, but a MAN must abide by The Law of Beasts

The Law of Beasts states that a man's pet must meet three requirements: 1) Frightening, 2) Vicious/Ill Tempered, and 3) Large.

Pets that meet this rule are as follows: huge dog, Anaconda, Iguana, Horse, Gorilla, Tiger, Boa Constrictor, Ostrich, King Cobra, Tarantula, Komodo dragon, and a salt water crocodile.

Unacceptable pets included: Small dogs, cats, chimps, salamanders, hamsters, and anything else that isn't a vicious killing machine and unsightly to look at.

A man may only purchase an unacceptable pet in the event that his married and/or whipped and can't get his wife to agree to a larger animal. Real Men around the world weep for you while we wrestle with our bears.

Rule 11: A man not need to know the answers should his mouth stay silent

When confused simply nod along. Never ask questions that seek clarification. Period. You are a man!

Rule 12: Thou shalt be a pillar of support for thine fallen friends

We all have friends in relationships. Real men wish their friends success with their newfound ladyfriend. However, we secretly hope they break up so that we can take him out, and remind him how awesome it is to be without that tramp.

So as a friend you have one major duty to keep to your friend. Upon hearing that your friend has broken up with his girlfriend you make an inappropriate joke about her. Any joke will do. Seriously, make the most profane, sick joke that can pop into your head. That's why you are there. You want him to forget every positive attribute she had. If you fail in this he will end up going back to her, and that's no fun for anybody because then he is going to tell her the about the jokes. Then it is just going to be AWK…waaaaaaard.

In the event you do not have a set and refuse to make a joke your man card and genitals will promptly be removed. These will become the sole property of the authors and keepers of the rules of "Manhood". In this case, no matter what you do you will never again see your genitals or man card, ever.

Rule 12a: Upon hearing that your friend broke up with her boyfriend you insult him vigorously and quickly take steps to get her in bed.

It may not be ethical. It may not be what a "good friend" would do. But, to hell with that, you are a man and you've been trying to get with this chick for, like, 2 years. You'll be damned if you pass up a perfectly good opportunity to get with her after waiting this long. You can feel bad the morning after.

Rule 13: Shall emotions govern thee? I say, "Neigh"

As a man is it your duty to never discuss your emotions with anyone. Period. If anyone asks, "Oh my god, are you okay?" you are to spit, grunt, scratch yourself, and say, "Doing good. You?"

There is absolutely no exception to this. You hear me?! No exceptions!

Rule 14: If after relieving oneself one should never shake more than twice.

The bathroom, a man's sanctuary, is a home away from home for every single man in existence. It is where he goes to get away from it all. When we need peace and quiet we head to the bathroom and grab a urinal or stall. But, the bathroom has rules, one of which has already been discussed. However, this one, even though lower on the list, is just as important.

Every man does his best to pee while standing up and while doing this we are forced to handle our own junk for a few seconds. Once we are done urinating we have to answer a very important question to ourselves: "Am I really done here?" If not, keep going.

DO NOT START SHAKING IF YOU ARE NOT POSITIVE YOU'RE DONE. This can lead to a flailing about of urine and a wet pant leg. Both of which are really nasty.

If you do happen to be done, then you do what all our fathers taught us to do in order to finish off, shake it. Shake it like a Polaroid picture. But not too much or you are just masturbating You want to do it just enough. And we all know that the moment you start playing with yourself in public then you are really, really, really gross and should be ashamed of yourself, you pervert.

Don't let this be you. It's gross.

Basically, if you shake it more than twice, you're playing with yourself.

Rule 15: Thine tongue is a vessel of wisdom. Thou shall not sully it with profanities

Things not to say to other men:

- Lets hit the showers

- I'll do that for you

- No, I have never been to a monster truck rally

- I'm in love

- Why did you pick this beer?

In my last blog entry I boasted about my most recent achievement. Graduation. Truthfully, I could not be happier that I have completed college both for the personal gratification it brings, and the pride it brings to my parents. One of which didn't finish high school and the other left college to pursue motherhood.

However, that is not what I am here to talk about.

College, well, life in general, has shown me the value of lot of things such as hard work, accountability, initiative, and disappointment. These are just a handful of things I have made commonplace in my life. I felt I was adequately prepared to tackle the horrors of "Real life" now that I am out and on my way. Unfortunately, I wasn't prepared for one thing upon my exit from the safety net that is college. Something so small, yet vastly important, that was never taught or even discussed in college. Albeit, my father always said it was a virtue. The sad part is, it's the one thing in life all people need to have in spades but few people really truly grasp.

Patience. Yeah, not one of my stronger attributes.

It's been a full month and a half since graduation and, yet, I have no employment. I understand that a month and a half of unemployment is not a long stretch of time relative to how long many job seekers look. However, it's seems likes ages to me. For many college graduates this is old news. I've heard the stories of certain majors graduating with employment troubles but surely that would never happen to me. I graduated from a good school with good grades and good work and leadership experiences. In addition to that, my major emphasis was corporate finance. Every corporation has a finance division. I should be all set. Right? In my mind, the offers should be pouring in. Right? But they aren't. No interviews. No follow up. Hell, not even a rejection letter. Am I that bad?

Now, mind you, I have never been handed anything. I firmly believe that if you want something you will bust your ass to get it. Since May 17 I have sent out more than 50 resumes and cover letters. With each resume and cover letter superior to its predecessor. I went from a generic "cookie cutter" resume and a generic cover letter to a "targeted resume" and a set of cover letters unique to each position. Still nothing. I wasn't just sending out blind cover letters either. I had done my homework on these firms. Educated decisions are just the bee's knees, at least when they bear fruit.

So mid-June I got desperate. I went into my phone and begin calling and emailing every contact I have. You know what? I realized I do not have a lot of finance contacts. Video games? Sure. Accountants? Sure. Marketing? Sure. Operations Management? Sure. Finance? No, not really. The realization of this was a tad unsettling. Plus, I hate asking people for personal favors so using my "networking skills" has always been a point of contention for me. I understand how important it is, and I am quite good at making an impression but I just do not like doing it.

So, now I am waiting on people and applying. An endeavor that takes time. Somehow people tout patience as a virtue but, in truth, waiting is just damn upsetting. Anyway, at this point I wonder, "What's the outlook for recent grads?" Thatquestion, believe it or not, would lead me to the greatest discovery of my young life and teach me a valuable, yet painful, lesson.

After reading an umpteenth number of articles, umpteenth being the number just before you reach that point where you say, "Dear god, to hell with all this damn counting!" I discovered that very few college graduates are receiving offers. I was by no means shocked by this. What I was shocked by was the percentage. I believe, without citing a source, it hovered between 20-30%, and this is an improvement over last year. For finance majors this number is painful. Why? BECAUSE THERE IS AN ASSLOAD OF FINANCE MAJORS. It's a widely common major. Another factoid I happened across in some yet-to-be cited article. It is all about being competitive in the job market. I just happen to be competitive in a very, very small job market.

After reading that unnerving umpteenth article I called up an old professor. Strangely enough he is a professor of clinical accounting. I really do not know many finance people, and my finance professors are not as "people friendly" as one would hope. So, we met in his office last Monday and he has given me the best answer for the troubles I am having that I could have ever hoped to hear. I will paraphrase but the overall message will remain intact.

"It's not you. You have the qualifications. You have what they're looking for. You're resume is solid; nothing negative stands out at all. I even sent it off to two recruiters to get their impression of it."

But wait it gets better. After hearing this, and getting a little upbeat, I asked him, "So, if that is the case why am I having so much trouble?"

The brilliance of what you are about to read might knock you back, because it had honestly never occurred to me. He says, with a complete straight face, "You have what these recruiters are looking for. They're just not looking. Many recruiters work hard all year. The summer is their time to relax since they may not have access to the wealth of students the fall and spring semesters offer. Plus, with unemployment the way it is there are tons of people who already know how to do the job. You have to wait your turn. The jobs won't start pouring into the career center until late July, early August."

Mind. Yeah, it was all over the back wall.

I have to wait. I have to wait? Why? I'm awesome! So what if I have less than a year worth of experience in a professional setting. I could kick so much ass at that job they'd be begging to make me CFO in a matter of months. Hell, I am the Warren Buffett of finance. At least that's what I told myself as I slowly slid back into reality.

I sat that there in sort of a weird comforting, but frightening, awe. A cross between "Oh my god, yes, I will be okay." and "Holy crap, I am going to be jobless forever." In all my efforts to land a finance position in the last month and a half it never occurred to me that it wouldn't happen on my schedule, as ridiculous as that sounds. I figured I was everything an employer would want rolled into a nice, and if I may add, sexy, package. My professor assured me that he would help me land a position. He has done it before with an internship I received last summer.

Unfortunately, at this point I am forced to do what I do worst. Wait and exercise patience. Not that I wasn't waiting before. It is just I must be "patient" now. I cannot expect things to pick up tomorrow because I applied today. Nor can I expect to have a position just land in my lap. It is really too bad patience doesn't get the bills paid or allow me to save.

Truthfully, this process just became a tad more painful. I will wait and I will stay determined. Something good will happen for me in time. I do wish to impart my learned lesson upon others: be patient, it'll happen. That is all. But, in the immortal words of George Eliot, arguably the most brilliant random person I have ever googled looking for a quote to fit what I am currently saying, "It is easy finding reasons why other folks should be patient."

And that's about all I wanted to say.

That's right. Today I, Clayron, became an alumni of the University of Southern California with a Bachelor's of Science in Business Administration.

Yay ******* Verily!

Before we begin I ask anyone reading this to do me one favor: think of the one place on Earth that you consider the most heinous, the most appalling, and the downright most despicable place on the planet. You got it? Ok, well to hell with that mental image because I have a place worst than that.

A gym locker room.

Yes, you heard...err, read that right. The Locker Room, with its tiled walls, short ceilings, and row upon rows of 3 tiered lockers, is, by far, a really not fun place to be. Few people are brave enough to even step into the locker room of your local gym. The average guy comes to the gym ready to work out in an effort to simply avoid the rumored evils that lie within the dreaded halls of this cesspool of depravity. These guys do not just parade around in their filth like the average violator. Oh no. They bathe in it, and sprinkle the residual on as after shave. These people's sole purpose is to make your time in the locker room mind-bendingly unpleasant.

Knowing this, why is it that many of us have chosen to enter the locker room?

It's simple really. We want 3 things from a gym locker room. One, we want to change into our workout attire. Two, after a long, sweaty gym session we want to bathe. No point in being in shape if you smell like a jockstrap. Three, after Two we would like to be able to dress ourselves for our next harrowing adventure. And lastly, I know I said three but this needs to be stated, we want to be able to get in and out with the least amount of interaction as possible.

Again, I have elected to take up the task of arming you with the knowledge of these ne'er-do-wells and their transgressions against gym etiquette. My hope is that with this knowledge you will enter a locker room with confidence (and a very very big sword) and strike down these violators where they sit, stand, and shower.

Shall we get started?

The Ol' Reach Around

Imagine this. There you are at your locker, which for some reason is in the middle row of a three-tiered locker tower, listening to a song that is blowing your mind while trying to remember that damn combination. You knew you should have kept that little piece of paper with the numbers. Suddenly, and without warning, you see something in your periphery. You identify it. Some rogue arm whose sole purpose, at least as far as you know, is to destroy any and everything you have ever held dear. You twist and turn to face your opponent when you hear, "Sorry man, just trying to get my stuff."

You have just experienced the Ol' Reach Around.

He could have said, "Excuse me." Wouldn't have killed him. But no, that's not rugged enough for this guy. He comes creeping into the locker room, like some sort of sweaty ninja, sneaks up behind you and proceeds to assault your olfactory senses and your personal space. You would think he does this simply because he has not been taught the basics of gym etiquette. But this couldn't be further from the truth. No, he is fully aware of the fact that this behavior is a no-no, he just doesn't give a damn. He wants you to smell the stink emanating from his forearm and absolutely loves that surprised look on your face when you turn in response to the presence of his arm only to get a face full of chest hair…and a smile. Seriously, who does this?!

This guy!

How to correct it: Remember that very big sword I mentioned? Well, you are going to need that. The moment you see that huge sweaty popeye-esque forearm…you remove it. Take it with you. Then bronze it, and mount it on the hood of your car. Let that be a message to all those who would even ponder the idea of committing The Ol' Reach Around. Or you can simply tell him to back the hell up. Your choice.

The Streaker

It's exactly what it sounds like. We have all been in the locker room. There are times when another male is stark naked. That's cool. You avert your gaze and continue about your business, while he stands right next to you "drying" off. And that's where you went wrong. The Streaker will not be ignored. He will not allow you to look inside your locker to avoid him. He is determined to get your attention. So what does he do? He starts striding, yes, striding, not walking, striding, across the locker room. Long, wide strides that expose all his manly glory, or lack thereof.

At this point if you haven't looked up he cranks it up a notch. And there are only 2 notches. The first is "Stride." The second is "Talk and Stride."

That's right. He starts talking and striding. This, by the way, is very dangerous when your "Misters" are dangling about unprotected. He gets on the phone, starts singing, tells a joke to the ENTIRE locker room, or finds a fellow Streaker. The Streaker will keep going until the tank is on "E" or until you give him the attention he feels he is due.

The worst part of all this: if this guy is hilarious and you start laughing/chuckling/giggling he puts it in overdrive and you are forced to keep peering into that small gray box cursing yourself for encouraging him.

How to correct it: I don't know. I do not have a way to deal with a loud naked man. Nothing in my personal experience has ever prepared me for this guy. I would personally recommend grabbing your things and getting the hell out of dodge.

Although, I do have a question: Does this specific violation happen to anyone but me?

Did that just happen?

This, my friends, is a special kind of violation. It occurs in the shower. Here you are completely naked, sans stride and verbal communication, making an effort to knock the stink off after a workout. Most men look down or at the wall while in the showers of a gym. I forgot to mention, for those who do not frequent the locker room, most showers are communal. Say hello to your neighbor. Seriously, don't do that – Do. Not. Do. That! Or you'll find your ass in this guide.

I digress. So, there you are. And, at some point, you look up and see a guy entering or exiting the shower, it doesn't matter. Buck Naked. As this guy marches past you in his nude majesty he proceeds to make perfect ******* eye contact with you. This isn't regular eye contact. This is prolonged eye contact. Prolonged, nude eye contact while hot, steamy water caresses your backside. He keeps waking, and keeps staring. He's naked. You're naked. You two made eye contact, prolonged eye contact. You are now very uncomfortable. You may cry yourself to sleep tonight.

The first question that crosses your mind is, "Did that just happen?" Yes. Yes, it did. Hence the name of the violation. I truthfully do not even know how this happens. It's either an amazing coincidence, or one of the most diabolical schemes to make a man question his sexually ever devised.

How to correct it: Splash water in his face. …Seriously. You need him to close his eyes before they latch onto yours and refuse to let go. The minute he gets near you take a handful of water and throw it at him, and as you do this yell, "Dude! The eye contact…not cool." Let him know that this behavior is unacceptable and you'll be damned if it continues. Then watch as his head slumps and he continues on his way defeated. Yay verily at your victory.

The Nice Guy

We are all friendly people on some level. We like having friends. Making friends. Being friends, especially with that hot girl whom we hope one day will recognize how much we really want to sleep with her and be all for it. Don't lie, we've all done it.

But there is a time and place for it. When I have a towel elbow deep in my own genitalia in a valiant attempt to get them completely dry is NOT the time.

The Nice Guy just wants to be friendly with the people in the gym. That, in my opinion, is more than noble. But, he doesn't grasp the concept of personal boundaries.

Ask me to spot you in the gym. Offer me advice on the correct weight training technique. Or even ask me if it's cool if you can work in… But, by no means should one half-naked man go out of his way to introduce himself to another half-naked man.

How to correct it: This honestly is not that bad, though you should be aware of it. Just ask him to hold on until you put your pants on. He should get the hint. And who knows he may be an awesome guy to hang with. If he doesn't get the hint then just glare at him.

That should do it.

Bend over and spread 'em

WARNING: This next violation is so heinous that if you are squeamish I would strongly suggest skipping over it.

It will make sense in a second.

Ever go into the bathroom section of the locker room? Faucets, stalls, urinals, hand dryers, hand sanitizers…you get it. Seem pretty innocent, right?

That is until you see that one guy in front of the hand dryer bent over trying to blow dry his ass. I'll say that again. Blow. Dry. His. Ass. Think about that. He is making a conscious effort to blast rampant fecal matter into your breathing air. I do not even think I need to continue explaining why this is a violation of gym etiquette. Hell, this should be a violation of common decency laws! What possesses a person to spread their ass and back into a hand dryer? Use a towel, you freak!!

The first time I saw this.

How to correct it: If you had strict parents or originate from Texas you have heard the phrase, "I am going to break my foot off in your ass." And that is EXACTLY what you need to do. Kick him square in the poop chute. Instill in him a fear. A fear of a foot in his ass. Every time he considers doing this he should have a flash back of your boot wedged knee deep in his rear-end.

Father Time

Ah, Father Time. We all know him, we all love him, and we all need more of him. Unfortunately, he jokes are lame, his stories stale, and, truthfully, he seems to have let himself go over the last few decades. But, forever the hipster, he has decided to keep in touch with the young people by lurking the halls of the gym locker room. Not really that bad. However, he is usually nude.

Father Time is that old guy in the locker room stark naked and looking to impart his wisdom. You've seen it and you've cringed. Now, you're probably saying, "An old guy being nude in a locker room is not much of a violation, Clay?" And you'd be right. His sheer nakedness is almost a non-issue until…

…he approaches you while you are seated on a bench and begins talking to you. And it's not the conversation that is the issue. Father Time is standing while you are seated on a bench.

I'll let it soak in for a minute.

You are now officially eye-level with an old guy's genitals…also, he is likely very overweight. The plus side is that he is probably telling you a very entertaining story concerning his youth that is being drowned out by the sizzle of your mind melting and oozing out your nose. At this point you do not know what to do – well, your mind is pretty much soup sloshing around in your head so that isn't much you can actually do. You are currently eye level with something that looks like two peaches stuck to the bottom of a desk with gum. And the gum is slowly melting. And there you stay, transfixed, until he finishes his story.

How correct to it: There is no way to combat Father Time. He is a hardened gym etiquette violator and he will not go down easy. Anything short of you spontaneously combusting will not even register with Father Time. Good luck with this guy.

If you have not already heard, Friday the Securities and Exchange Commission (S.E.C.) filed suit against Goldman Sachs. The suits alleges(this link directly to the SEC page)that Goldman Sachs knowingly "...structured and marketed a synthetic collateralized debt obligation (CDO) that hinged on the performance of subprime residential mortgage-backed securities (RMBS). Goldman Sachs failed to disclose to investors vital information about the CDO, in particular the role that a major hedge fund played in the portfolio selection process and the fact that the hedge fund had taken a short position against the CDO."

In layman terms, Goldman Sachs, the granddaddy of investment banks, bet against the very securities they were selling. So, that if the securities, in this case mortgages, dropped in value or went into default the investment bank would profit. The primary issue with this is that Goldman Sachs put together a CDO, composed of securities which they claimed ACA Management LLC had selected. However,the SEC suit states that Goldman Sachs failed to inform investors that Paulson & Co., headed by John Paulsen, also played a role in selecting the securities.

Why is that a big deal?

Because, apparently, Paulsen & Co. were the original people behind the idea to create the CDO. The S.E.C. claims that Paulsen & Co paid about $15mn in 2007 to the investment bank to put the CDO together. Essentially, the firm had made a bet that the securities would fail before it ever happened, and was expecting to make a substantial profit (Paulsen & Co made about $1billion) from the decline in value, or the default, of the securities. This is where the fraud charges come in. Investors were not told of Paulsen's prediction that the securities would decline in value or his involvement in the construction of the CDO.Investorswere told that a separate firm had taken the liberty of selecting them and, were thus, free of bias. And, lastly, investors were being sold something they felt would add value to their own portfolio based on Goldman Sachs' recommendation. Also, if it makes any difference, a lot of the investors were foreign investors...and they lost a LOT of damn money. Needless to say, these firms are less than pleased with this current findings and allegations.

Now, lawmakers, politicians, academics, and wall street are in a uproar - well, not literally. Some say the financial markets have been de-regulated to the point that investors are at the mercy of firms with insider knowledge and more regulation and transparency are needed. Other claims that this is merely a ploy by the Obama administration to simply make himself and his administration "look good", but will have no lasting effects. And even others are praising this, saying that main street, where the average American calls home, is fed up with Wall Street's bull **** and demands some accountability and transparency.

What do you think?

I think...I mean, I can see where the S.E.C. is coming from; however, if you put me in the same position as a Goldman Sachs Exec or John Paulsen I probably would have done the same thing. Not saying its right, but that is a hell of a lot of money to walk away from.

Food for thought: A series of diverse opinions, Obama's War against Goldman Sachs, and finally - Financial Reform (GS wont link, change "$$" to "ss" for the article -http://topics.nytimes.com/topics/reference/timestopics/subjects/c/credit_crisis/financial_regulatory_reform/index.html?inline=nyt-cla$$ifier

So, Sunday I broke my hand by way of my amazing clumsiness. Well, not my hand, but I fractured my 5th Metacarpal bone, and I need to have it pinned back into place for it to heal properly.

I am not really looking forward to it. :/

What would have happened in God of War 2 & 3 if one person had of taken the time to just apologize to Kratos, instead of constantly antagonizing him?

The Gym. At some point in our lives we all visit one. For reasons ranging from getting in shape and building muscle to going just so we can watch the fat guy with the hot girlfriend struggle with 15 pounds for 20 minutes. The gym is meant to be the steel Mecca for those seeking bulging biceps, a tight ass, and that woman who wears the purple tights on that treadmill right in front of the squat rack.

But this sanctuary, of sorts, has been infiltrated and perverted by heathens and violators. These people come into the gym with a wonton disregard for life, limb, and gym formality. As they parade around in their filth not knowing that their very actions are an affront to the natural beauty and elegance of Bally's Total Fitness Gym and Spa, or whatever gym you frequent.

So here and now, I am compiling a guide. A guide to of what not to do in the gym. I pray that this guide brings peace to the otherwise tumultuous world of working out and helps those armed with the knowledge it contains combat the evil of these violators.

This guide will play out in the following manner: I will list and explain a blatant gym violation and then suggest the appropriate action that should take its place. Let's begin.

The Air Compressor

Oh, if there was any way to begin this guide this is it. With the air compressor you would swear there was an airsoft tournament being hosted on the bench adjacent to your own. At times it can be so convincing that you actually ponder bringing a mask and purchasing that hopper with the flames on it for the next match. Whether or not you are aware of it you have been assaulted by this person and his sharp repetitious breathing.

You know the person. Its the guy benching right next to you and every inhale sounds like "hssss" and every exhale "tsssss". Over and over and over. At some point the air compressor makes such a stir that you begin wondering how much longer it will be before he needs a CO2 refill, especially during his heavier reps when a particular exhale seems to drag on for 20 or more seconds. Just "tssssssssssssssss...sss" until you at some point lower the bar on your own neck in attempt to escape the torment.

How to correct it: Breathe like a normal individual. That's it. As far as violations this is the mildest, but seriously, its not that hard to inhale and then subsequently exhale.

Grunt

One step up from the air compressor. I present to you the Grunt. Its interesting that this violation is both a noun and a verb, simultaneously. You ever been having a conversation in a noisy room and then right when you say something embarrassing everything gets quiet? Yeah, well the Grunt is nothing like that. He is the noise in the room and, unfortunately, he never ceaes.

This is the man who puts 3 plates on a bar, lifts it, and makes a noise akin to "DAAGHRGHAAGHGAH-GRAWH!!"

Then the moment he is relieved of the tremendous weight bearing down upon him he stands erect, strong and proud, and grunts AGAIN! Why the hell does he need a post-grunt grunt?! Its almost impressive. Imagine if the 5th symphony had been composed using a series of grunts, and you will have idea of how often and how diverse the grunts of the Grunt can be.

How to correct it: 1) Grunt in moderation or 2) If you are on the receiving end, every single time you see the Grunt preparing to violate gym etiquette you are required to fling a 2-1/2 pound weight towards his Adam's apple. Cut it off at the source.

My muscles! My Beautiful Muscles!!

He likes the flex. His sole purpose in the gym is to stand in front of the mirror and flex his ass off. You may see him pick up a weight once in a while. However, he will quickly discard it to resume the important task of public self-appreciation. Why he does this? I don't know, but I do not like it.

There is nothing weirder than a grown man wearing shorts, that could have only been designed for a toddler, contracting and relaxing his glutes a foot from away me.

How to correct it: Challenge him to a "Flex Off" and win. Shame him at his own game. As he leaves the gym, head lowered, laugh maniacally and insult his inadequate calves.

The Squatter

Much like anyone who works out regularly I know that squatting is an essential part of fitness. This guy takes that to a level that is over 9000! If coordinated correctly working out in a crowded gym could be an elegant ballet. With one person moving from one machine/bench to the next fluidly. Unless, the ballet has a dancer with two left feet.

The squatter finds a spot, plants his caboose, and refuses to move. He does not care that people may need the machine. He could not care less if he has taken a 27 minute rest between sets. His ass-print has become a permanent fixture and he will be damned if one of you eccentric gym bastards messes up his hard work.

How to correct it: There is honestly no real way around this. You have two unlikely options: 1) Kill him or 2) Partner him with "You got it bro" Bro.

"You got it bro" Bro

Its amazing being surrounded by people who believe in you and want you to succeed. Having that friend that supports you - God, there is nothing like it. Sucks for the people whose closest friend is "You got it bro" Bro. Picture this. Arnold Swartzenegger + Billy Mays + Billy Blanks. That's "You got it bro" Bro. Playing spotter he menacingly looms over his prey - see partner - barking orders of encouragement like "Come on!" or "One more, dude, you're not tired yet!" or the ever popular "You got it, bro."

He has forgotten that his duty is to support the weight looking to crush his partner. But that's not good enough for "You got it bro" Bro. Taking on the role of motivational speaker and drill sergeant this guy yells, screams, and spits at you in order to make you a more fitter you. All the while standing over/near you, as you struggle for what seems like an eternity, flexing his pecks and glutes refusing to help because, you know, "You got it bro".

How to correct it: MAKE NEW FRIENDS! This guy may want the best for you but at some point you are going to be rushed to the ER for a crushed windpipe because he refused to help you. Get a spotter who is willing to listen to your pleas for assistance.

Shackin'Up

Of all the violations and violators of gym etiquette Shackin' up has to be one the worst. Most gyms follow the basic law of economics to a "T". Unlimited wants coupled with limited resources leads to intense demand for available units.

And like economic theory states, the marginal benefit of an additional unit is a decreasing function. So tell me why in the hell does one person need four of every type of weight in the gym? This wouldn't be so bad if he could find a way to use every weight he lords over simultaneously. But, oh no, that is physically impossible.

So what do you do? You begin looking for that missing 25 and, bam, there it is. You make a beeline for it, the heavens have chosen to smile on your quest. This person immediately stops what he is doing to put himself bet

ween you and his "precious" to inform that he needs all those weights. As the puzzled look crawls across your face while you leer at the pile and curse the gods he begins to tell you about every exercise he plans on doing. Not that you even care.

You need to do a military press and this guy is currently having a conversation with "You got it bro" Bro.

How to correct it: Show him that Shackin' Up is in clear violation of Gym Etiquette - Take the weight and tell him he can have it back when you're done with it. Proceed to Military Press. If he gives you any lip just point at him with an incredibly stern look on your face.

Dropping a Deuce

If you've been in the gym then you've seen, you've heard, you've been startled by this violation of gym etiquette. The very presence of this violator reminds you of a Michael Bay film...except without all the fireworks. This guy is strong. He knows it, you know it, and if you somehow forgot he is going to remind you. Once he steps onto the hallowed mats of the gym he launches into a moose-like charge toward the free weights. Gripping 90 pounds in each hand he begins to curl like a moose possessed. At this point, you're impressed and a little inspired so you turn away to continue your workout.

Big mistake.

Guess what he's about to do.

Nothing could have warned you for what is to come. For unbeknownst to you this guy likes to go out with a bang. Like I said he is going to remind you how strong he is. A second after he finishes that last repetition this guy launches the weight towards the floor - dropping a deuce. Not enough to simply sit them down. Not for him. He wants everyone to know he is done. With a loud bang/crash/boom the 90 pounds collide with the floor and you are scared ****less. In a way, you are also responsible for dropping a deuce. Kidding, just make sure to clean yourself up.

How to correct it: All this violator needs is a stern talking to. Something along the lines of: "Hey guy, just wanted to let you know that every time you drop the weights like that *point at weights* your penis shrinks a little. Have a nice day."

The Pagaentress

Let's get to the point. She's hot. Really hot. In fact, she is so over the top attractive you wonder why she is even at the gym and not out at some public venue where her beauty can be appreciated. i.e. the mall, or the beach, or college.

Ah, here is where you learn that to her the gym is a public venue. She is not rocking gray eye shadow, MAC makeup, and an updo for the lolz. She wants you to look at her while spends 20 minutes walking on a treadmill learning "157 ways to tickle your man's belly button" from a Cosmopolitan magazine.

Now, there are few guys who would call this a violation. Nothing wrong with a hot girl, right? Shut up. You're wrong. She is a distraction that must be done away with.

How to correct it: Stop paying attention to her. Its like a dog, if you feed it it'll follow you. Ignore it and it will go on its way without trouble. No offense.

That Guy

"Can I work in?" What kind of person wishes to work in? Seriously, are you an idiot? No, you can't work in. The next thing you hear is, "Ok cool" as he proceeds to invade your space. For reasons unknown to me, no one can say "No" to That Guy and he is fully aware of it!

That Guy changes your weight, adjust your seat, and gets sweat on your machine. Then, when he is finished he never puts things back the way he found them. Wipe the sweat off, you freak!! It was not there when you ambushed my machine!!

Not only is he taking gym etiquette and wiping his bum with it. He is taking that and rubbing it in the face of others gym-goers. The fiend!

How to correct it: Kill him. Period. The moment a guy asks to "work in" you nail him to a tractor wheel, ship him to the top of Everest, and have him rolled down the face of the mountain. That'll show him.

Today August 7, 2008 I was moderated by a fairly lenient Moderator, any other may have suspended me so I am grateful, to say the least.

To avoid another moderation I will not mention what I did, but I will note that it was offensive. At the start of my post I saw absolutely nothing wrong with what I had posted. There were even other users that found it funny as well.

We can all agree that it feels pretty good when someone likes your post.

But back to the topic at hand. I check my inbox a tad after posting and getting some feedback to find that I have been moderated. At that point I did what any reasonable GS user would do, I went to ask the "Asks the Moderators" Forum. Then, after an insightful conversation with one of the moderators I saw where I had crossed the line, speaking figuratively of course.

This got me thinking.:|

I am beginning to become sympathetic towards the moderators and what they often have to go through. I saw my post as nothing more harmless than a few pictures with some funny words under them. I never actually took the time to grasp, or even consider, any underlying problems or messages with the images I posted. I believe, I may have even given him a bit of text-titude with my questions because I honestly did not see anything wrong with my post, until he showed me. Get this, my post was really offensive depending on your perspective :| ........Okay, okay. It was clearly offensive, but it was subtle. I consider myself a fairly intuitive individual, but I managed to miss the message behind the humor.

It made me want to ask the moderator. How many times a day do they have to deal with that? I mean, we GS posters put a lot of images, texts, leet, etc. on this website and many of us have been moderated. I assume, since I have no quantifiable evidence, that many of us get upset and accuse the moderators of being unfair, power hungry, and/or blindly wielding the Banhammer, an object that, I am sure, I narrowly missed. But, we (the GS posters) often do not take that step back and say "Hey, I clearly crossed a line", and it is probably even less often that we accept the reasons for why we were moderated, I have seen people make a "I GOT MODDED" topic, and get their topic locked again, which I assume is followed by a moderation.

But, I could be wrong.

Another thing that I am pondering is, why is it that many users complain that GS is too strict? I have been on many other websites, I could name half a dozen easily, and the moderators are often extremely lax or non-existent all together. These forums, I will use a term adopted by another user whose name I am unaware of, are unstructured and resemble an unorganized sandwich - I absolutely love that phrase. Many are littered with profanity, sexual references, overtly offensive, and often derogatory language. But, here at GS we have great forums; of course, we do have our share of individuals who attempt to make our forums a cluster****. The moderators; however, have managed to keep the boards free of most of the crap that afflicts other sites, which will not be named.

While I am not a moderator, nor do I know any personally or on the forums. But, I am asking, sort of like a general distress call to any user who reads this, that next you are moderated or see a locked topic, which may very well be your own, do not flip out. Instead, be a reasonable GS user figure out what went wrong, and say "Hey, I clearly crossed a line." :lol:

I pondered more but my fingers begged me to quit.