Wingwoman

Contrary to what people may think, it’s not always necessary that the wingman actually be a wingMAN. The duties of the wingman are not restricted to gender or, for that matter, sexual orientation. That being said, anyone can and should be trained to be a wingman. Point in case: remember Greg? He and I need to train better as each other’s wingmen much like the center needs to train with the QB in order to achieve a seamless execution of the snap.

But not like I’m the one who’s under center touching Greg’s ass. That’s just...um…uncomfortable.

I’m not saying that the center-QB relationship is gay.

Unless they are…and there nothing wrong with that…

Especially since a majority of them can kick my ass.

Umm…

It’s just a bad analogy.

Let’s use a better one.

A wingman must train to anticipate each other’s moves. Much like Roy must know when Sigfried is in trouble.

You know what…I’m having some trouble with words today. I’ll try some other time.

You’re welcome, anyway.

Wingman Training

Here’s a premise all guys should abide: Never work with a wingman.

I will write about this later, but since all dudes should know to always have a wingman, here is the rule’s correlation: Wingmen should train together.

This is the story of the wingman fiasco of 2009.

A few weeks ago, my wingman Greg Sanchez, another dude, and I were out at our second usual hangout bar in Manhattan Beach. We sat next to a group of four women and a guy—knowing full well that not all of those women are there for him. Obeying the guy rule “Never Rack-Jack Another Dude”, we observed who was getting most of his attention. She is off-limits for the night (unless, of course, he turns out to be a douche, or she initiates contact, or she winks at you, or she is over a 6, or you're bored).

So we proceed with the play.

Step 1: Introductions

We introduced ourselves while being careful not to give too much information before we find out more of them.

Step 2: Information Gathering

We got the names of the people at the other table. It is also important, at this time, to find out their history with the city. In this case, the woman Greg was talking to just moved to LA a few months ago. We’ll call her “whatshername.” This important piece of information brings us to…

Step 3: Calling the Play

Now, Greg doesn’t necessarily know the plays that I call as his wingman. For the most part, though, a good wingbro will know what kind of offense the other is setting up—ground game, air attack, smash and dash…you know. For Greg, I called an improvised play—a hybrid of the “Give-and-Go” and “Tourist Trap”.

Step 4: Initiating the Play

So I was laying down the foundation of the “Give-and-Go”—I was buttering up “whatshername” with wit and charm when “whatshername” said that she’s from Phoenix. I said “my buddy Greg here…he showed me around LA when I first moved.” Turning my attention to Greg, I said “Greg, why don’t you tell ‘whatshername’ where to get the best Mexican food” (Tip: always connect the cities with cuisine).

This is as far as this part of the night went because things went horribly wrong from here.

She seemed to be interested in my buddy, but little did I know that he wanted just to protect the pocket. Even though it seemed that Greg was hitting it off with “whatshername” and that she was into him, Greg really wasn’t. I didn’t know this until he kicked me under the table—giving me the audible.

And this is why wingmen have to train together; because while I have a rule that I don’t go for anyone I can’t bench press, Greg has a rule that he doesn’t go for anyone who can bench press him.

Duly noted, Greg.

You’re welcome!

Career Opportunities

Sorry I didn’t get to write in a while. I’ve been traveling and have been busy at the office to write anything substantial. At any rate, here I am back in the Deep North where they drive around with the Maple Leaf on the back of their pickup. Yes, I'm back in Montreal…Toronto? Whatever.

I have nothing really substantial to write about this trip other than these two:

1. While I was at the airport, there was a guy who sat down next to me and randomly started juggling. Grown men will never be treated with respect. First, your entire clientele depends on children surviving another year and celebrating it with cake and a juggler or a magician. Second, your entire competition consists of cake, magician, and puberty. Third, no one has ever said “when I grow up, I want to be a juggler”—mime, maybe, but never juggler.
2. Make sure you check out McGill University. Along with their beautiful campus and this awesome statue trailblazing merchant James McGill, the Martlet women rock!

Enjoy!

Goodbye Montreal

I'm back in LA, fellas and felletes!

To all who are thinking of leaving LA for even a bit, don't ever take your hometown for granted. Where else can we enjoy great conversations with good friends while savoring the joy of Chipotle and Pink Berry.

Don't ever take it for granted.

The Art of Cupcake Eating

Pink frosting should never appear on a man's face. Here's the procedure to avoid looking like a douche.

1. Assess situation.









2. Cut off the bottom. Eat the bottom first.









3. Section remainder into four by slicing vertically.









Enjoy!

You're welcome!

This One's for Melvin

Bonsoir, mes amis. Greetings from the fair city of Montreal, Quebec.

Yes, Canada.

French Canada.

As if being Canadian didn't already have its challenges.

I just got settled in my hotel having finished getting ready for my meeting tomorrow, and I decided to write to the gentleman who sat next to me in the plane this evening. To you, Mr. Melvin Chaffe, I have a two tips to make you a better dude amongst other dudes.

1. If your body hair is going to be in contact with another dude, it may be a good idea to not rub against said dude.
Rationale: You know your arm hair is too long if you actually puncture through another dude's Hugo Boss suit. It becomes a safety concern if your body hair can actually cause fire in a plane simply by scraping against the airplane seat.
Solution: Scape. There is no shame.

2. If you cause the flight to take off later, do not make other passengers angry.
Rationale: Two wrongs don't make a right.
Solutions:
a. Don't take off your shoes to reveal to everyone you have athlete's foot--that is for your alone time.
b. It is always a bad idea to eat fermented cabbage before confining yourself with people who have noses. Mint up.
c. Defer the armrest to the dude who wasn't late in the first place. As everyone knows, the armrest always belongs to me.

Good sir, your life just got better.

Je vous en prie!

The Next Generation

Being in my late twenties, most of my friends are still single. So this entry is not for my single friends. This is for my married friends. You know who you are. You're the ones who, when we go to a bar, you are the first ones to call it a night. You're the ones who, when we go to clubs, scan for a chair and immediately sit. You don't mingle with other singles unless you knew them as singles before you became marrieds. To the fallen bros who respond with "I dunno...I have to check with fill in wife's name" or "can't...in-laws tomorrow" simply to a beer and pizza night invite, we have one more request.

When you spawn, I have a few requests before you set all of your friends over the edge. So if you're wife's pregnant (never EVER say "We're pregnant". It's cute for the ladies...for you it's more proof that you're no longer dude. This is not the tip...this is just one of those rules that we as dudes must follow), make sure it's yours. In case of twins, make sure both of them are yours. If your wife gets the pregs, of course it means that...

a. your wife still actually lets you touch her
b. you still find your wife attractive
c. oops

In case of choices "A" and "B", kudos. If it's the third one, be a man and raise that kid right. If it turns out to be a boy, you have a drinking buddy in 15 years! If it's a girl, raise her right and so the world will have another clone of your gorgeous wife that my son will eventually hit on in 21 years. Unless, of course, you're Ryan Killgrew. We don't even know why you dated your wife much less married her.

So now the conversation between you and your wife begins. The name of your next generation should be everlasting...noble...brand name. In a word: monumental. In two words: bad ass! It should never be a debate. Remember the kid with the awkward name when you were in kindergarten? Cousteau Ramirez got his sweater flushed down the toilet, no one could ever spell or pronounce Kayleigh Van Der Hoerffen's (sp?) name, and Strawberry Simmons...last I saw her, she actually uses her real name when she dances at the the Nudes Nudes Nudes by the airport. You can actually smell the strawberry and the daddy issues from her.

And we all know what happened to Hank...he was King of the Monkey Bars and Archduke of the Sandlot.

So don't be an idiot with your kids' names. Please. No pretentious names. No pretentious spellings. To help you out, here are a few tips:

1. Stick to the "close to original" spelling. "Michelle" is never "Michelley", "Lizzie" or "Lizzy" is never "Liszty". PS...I also propose one spelling for "Shawn".

2. There is no need to name your kid after the first thing you see...anymore (unless of course your culture says so which in that case, it is still awesome that you have that excuse). Bear, Abrosia, and Lemmonjello are forever cursed.

3. Think through if the name you give (including the nickname) matches with the last name. The Dover couple should never name their son Benjamin. I also once knew a kid from high school named "James Jameson". William Powell Lear (founder of the Lear Jet Corp) should never have named his daughter "Shanda". Bad move bro.

4. Don't ever give your child a last name for a first name...unless the nickname is cute. Madison = Good. Campbell = Bad

5. Don't ever give your son a State or a City name for his first name. He will never be trusted in a game of cards.

To sum it up, here's a horror story of a bad move: as if "Conner" (which means "dog lover" or "wolf lover") was pretentious enough, my buddy names his new kid "Kauner".

"Kauner" means "stalker" or "one who is average and just wants to be invited".

I'd stay away from this kid.

PS: You're welcome!

How it all started

Here's how it all started.

I've had a few friends who have started their own blogs and posted their own thoughts in them. Apparently, it's the thing to do so here I am making it happen. What finally convinced me? A series of texts between me and my friend Isabelle.

H: I had a dream about snakes last night. Scared the shit off me. Woke up puncing my headboard. Ps ... going hime to la now :)

I: Aahh I hate snakes- I have a huge fear of tails and snakes are just big tails hand have fun in lala land- I just made a tumblr haha

H: Tumblr?? Tails?? Ha!! PS ... That was a rough landing.

I: Tumblr is like a blog thing..super cool and yesss I have a fear of tails and I hope you have survived the rought landing

H: I did ... Tell me more about tumblr

I: I told youuu its like a blog thing where you post videos, pictures or just your thoughts- pretty deep

H: I wanna read thoughts.

I: Fineee you can go to mine its izzmartin.tumblr.com

H: Here's my latest though: you've heard that you should never date your best friend? My parallel rule is never date and have a girl best friend (boy for you)

H: Ha!! I'm totally checking it out tonight.

H: No control parents + rowdy kids + airport carousel + airport security = new situation comedy.

I: Your face is situation comedy.

I: I don't agree because I think you can have a best friend and a boyfriend and if they truly are just friends then it should not matter.

H: Yeah ... But ... Complications. It's a long theory with a back story and experiments and stuff.

I: Complicated.

H: I need a blog.

I: Maybe you should just make a tumblr and get all uour feelings and expressions out haha

H: Maybe ...

I: I meant emotions

H: I have just one emotion. I'm a simple dude.

I: I have realized that and I have a theory that guys are really just chillin about 96 percent of the time and the other four is real emotions

H: Chillin is a real enmotion Ps ... my parents' playlist is confusing me. Garth brooks just came on.

I: Have you seen my blog yet?

H: Not yet ... dinner with family

I: You must be dying in anticipation haha

H: I am

I: It's really not that exciting

H: I am so starting a blog on blogspot. It is gonna me monumental.

H: This series of texts = first entry

I: It's going to bring out your 4 percent haha