Butt cracks

Whatever I expect to happen today, nothing happens.. I need something predictable to center me. That means two large hamburgers, large fries and a huge coke. I am going to McDonald's. I wear a loose jean today with a tool belt.

The problem with tool belts is butt cracks. I used to wear suspenders. Young guys, you know, I think they like that butt crack. When I looked to my left, there was this middle age guy sitting with a wide butt crack. The man who sat on my right, bends down and there goes his butt crack. Together, we looks like we're in a butt-crack festival.

My dragon came not long afterwards and met me at my table. She noticed immediately.

"Hey, doggy boy, look at that crack, that's gotta be eight inches.."

"Uh huh, pretty great huh?"

"Yours nice too doggy boy, Oh, what's that - a pencil holder back there?"

Butt crack is like male cleavage. I'd like to design a line or drop of jewelry for men. Butt crack ornamentation with pearls and gold chains to enhance the natural lines of our butt.

My dream vehicle

I have a couple of different dream cars. One is a maxed out Nissan Fairlady that I have been searching for.. tsk..tsk.. I would love to own a Porche. I don't know what it is about them. I have wanted a black Porche since I was a kid. Do you think it's a coincidence that Gen2 resembles a lot like Porche?

I don't know if I would ever be able to drive a Porche anywhere, though. I just feel like a stupid middle class guy, driving down to Midvalley and One U, talk on my handphone, fax the office from the car, running a red light, show my middle finger to the traffic police or annoying the guy in the Range Rover next to me.

Of accessories

All my life, I'd dreamed of driving a 2.0 litre car, so I bought a big sucker. They accessorise nicely too. A $11,ooo option was headlights and wooden interior. Had to had them in case I got to run down a guy at night. Car stereo costs $3,ooo. I didn't have to think about it. I didn't think dragon would think about it either.

I was wrong. Women always notice the accessories.

"You put a different headlights!"

"Yeah"

"Why?"

"I don't know, aerodynamics or something"

We accessorise sterring wheels and seat covers in our car, but that's about it. Women have department stores full of accessories to wander through like Moses in the dessert. The volume of accessories available to women is measured in cubic light years. And yet, all a woman needs is new earrings for a whole new look. Same fat head. Same mole on the cheek. But suddenly a whole new look. Men are happy with just a new mud guard for the car.

Cars cars cars...

One of my favorite past time is polishing cars. I love my cars. I was forever monkeyin around under the hood, listening to the sound of the machines and polishing the interiors. The great thing is that I developed my passion for cars all by myself. My dad loves his cars too. He loved to drive the Japanese models back in the 80s. My dad never tried to shove his love for cars down my throat - which is a good thing since I am sure that would have required extensive surgery.

My dad would buy a car - a fine Datsun 130Y 1983 for instance, right out of the box. He'd put on a high -rise manifold, chrome exhausts and gleaming sport rims. His upgrade of the normal family vehicle, giving it a more refreshing look, was enough to qualify him as my kind of guy. He had a change of taste and went for the American cars not long after and had a Ford Telstar, of all things. This was his hot rod. He loved that car, modified the motor and waxed and polished it all the time. When he did this, he was happy and cheerful, and when I watched him, I was too.

I have always loved stuff that moved and that could take me to different places. When I got my first bike, I think my development was pretty much arrested right then and there. That was enough, I was happy. Cars came next, and when I got my driving licence, the kid in me was thrilled and the neighbourhood was in jeopardy.

Some people consider cars as transportation but for others they're a statement of style. Mostly I meet people who want to buy a very functional piece of equipment but don't know why they want the one they want. They ask me what they should get and when I did, they go "No way.. man" and thank you for asking.

Sometimes you can tell a lot about a guy by the car he drives. I wonder if it's that the same for a woman? Someone suggested its the washing machine she owns.

So what can you say about the guy who drives a gray Honda Accord? Practical? A guy with a 'red' Accord is practical but he wants to pretend he's a little naughty. A 'red' Accord with mag wheels? He wishes it was a BMW, but it's about as close as he can get, leaving him slightly bitter.

Here's another thing I want to know: Why do so many people who don't really use them buy a 4 wheel drive sports-utility vehicles? If you're not actually working for the phone company or the power company - those are utilities - what's the point? I think they might be compensating for a height problem. This is another example of buying a car for style and image.

Men

Men's territories are where men can be men, alone or among other men. They are the last bastions of the industrious male. I like to be in my workshop with the computers, in my car, DIY shops, saloon, at men's club, in an M1 tank, on the deck of USS Missouri and even in the new bathroom upstairs beside my reading room.

In each place, a man can celebrate to being a man quietly, without later having to justify to his wife the time he spent there. Women don't really mind our excursions into our territory. When we're in our state of mind, women would just leave us be - as long as we do it someplace they have mopped or vacuumed.

However, men's territory occasionally mystify women. "I just can't imagine what you do in that car all morning."

Trying to polish the leather seats, dashboards all on your own, listening to the world news and sports on the FM radio are just a few things I be proud of doing in my new car.

Women aren't excluded from men's zone. The occasional "pop in" is allowed. But most women prefer to avoid these areas unless they have no choice. Showing up unannounced at men's locker room can cause a major discomfort, both to the women and to the naked man.

Board rooms are used to be male dominated. Not so now. But this sort of social progress is absolutely the right thing. Besides, men have always conducted the real business of company and state in the executive washroom. Sorry, we don't have an extra key at the moment.

Men and their machines

The ability of men to create is in many ways and at many times the very best of us. Of course, we can't create the way women can, and the truth has a profound effect on men, at many levels. Dragon always displayed her compulsions and desire to control something. Men, stereotpically, are breadwinners, so women want to control the household. The cave. Naturally we let them do it, but they know that if they're not bringing in the paycheck, they don't really control the household. Ok I know. I know. Lots of women do bring in a paycheck. Must we lose everything?

We let them control the kids because, after all, they have them. But we also know that if we just slip junior a couple of bucks, he'll do what Dad wants.. tsk.. tsk..

Women do control childbirth, which scares the hell out of men and makes us feel worthless, uselessness or even moody which explains why we felt we had to otherwise own the world.

But at best we protect, provide and create. The creations of men are wonderful things to behold. Just watch a man build a race engine, that receive stainless steel valves, hypereutectic or forged pistons, moly rings, Clevite or Federal Mogul bearings, performance pushrods, valve springs, rocker studs, roller rocker arms, roller timing set, and special grind solid or roller camshaft with well over .500" lift. How men ensured that every piece is expertly machined, balanced, blueprinted, plate honed, line honed, decked, and sonic tested is a miracle to behold.