String Cheese Article- Number Seven

It's 5 'o'Clock-Where's Your Shadow?
by Aryn Corley

Shaving is an art.
Shortly after Adam and Eve were kicked out of the Garden of Eden, Eve turned to Adam and said, “ I don’t like your stubble. You need to shave.”
Not to be outdone, Adam responded with, “ Well at least my legs don’t look like Chewbacca.”
As I lather up in the mornings, preparing myself for my own depilation, I often think about how mankind has embarked on a quest to rid itself of unwanted body hair.
For men, facial hair has been a matter personal identity as well as social acceptance. What adolescent boy hasn’t waited for that one “starter hair” hair to come in and usher him into manhood? However, 20 years later that same boy finds it a real hassle to shave every morning and wishes those hairs were on top of his head. Sadly, both his job and the woman who gets his paycheck demand it.
Nowadays, it’s more common to see men clean-shaven. Even moustaches have taken a holiday. Even fewer still are faces with a full-on beard. Imagine what Grizzly Adams would be like without that big bushy beard. He’d probably look like a weirdo and get mauled by that bear. If the Quaker Oats guy had just a tad more facial hair, he’d look a lot less like Barbara Bush.
For women, clean-shaven is highly encouraged. There’s nothing more discouraging than snuggling with a woman who’s got the whole ZZ Top thing going. Women even take it a step further doing crazy things with their eyebrows. It kills me to see a woman who’s removed her eyebrows completely only to draw them on crookedly with a pencil. I once worked with a woman who drew her eyebrows on in such a way it looked like she was in a perpetual state of surprise. Every time I’d talk to her, I’d catch myself opening my eyes really wide and hiking my unibrow as high as it would go.
The methods for removing hair are as varied and creative as anything you’d find in the London Dungeon.
I remember a little device called an “Epilady” that my mom had lying around the house. Basically, it was a spring on a handle. While I never used it, I distinctly remember my mom cussing like a longshoreman and chucking that thing out into the yard after about the tenth time she used it.
Late night television ads show nice looking women using goop, lasers, electrolysis, and other hi-tech means of distancing themselves from their mammalian heritage. Some of this James Bond stuff can cost hundreds of dollars. Actually, it might be cheaper to expose oneself directly to uranium.
Luckily for us guys, the choices are few: duct tape or a razor.
I saw an advertisement recently featuring Tiger Woods and the latest razor that looked like a tiny set of vertical blinds on a stick. Who is he kidding? Tiger Woods has got so much cash he can pay his hair to stop growing!
When I was in the military, I had to shave every morning. The Department of Defense philosophy is to look your best when bringing ferocious audacity to the enemy. Many of my cohorts would bring rechargeable electric razors with them out into the field. It was always funny to see these guys pool their intellect as they tried figure out how to recharge the darned things.
Personally, I like living on the edge.
When I shave, I use an “old skool” straight razor. There’s something kind of cool about shaving with an instrument primarily used by serial killers. With each stroke along my neck, I hear Johnny Depp singing songs from the movie “Sweeney Todd.”
I have to very careful about what I’m doing. Otherwise, my face ends up looking like a B-17 after a bombing run over Germany.
Departmental policy not withstanding, I have to shave because I can’t grow facial hair. Previous attempts at growing some resulted in me looking like a Chia Pet with a bad case of mange. Too bad. I could’ve been a great third world dictator if I were more hirsute.
As I finish the last of my three S’s, I notice my son watching me with the same morbid fascination that brings people to NASCAR races. He wants to see someone get hurt.
I turn to my son and share with him the wisdom of screenwriter, and all-around kooky guy, Samuel Hoffenstein:
“Babies haven’t any hair
Old men’s heads are just as bare
Between the cradle and the grave
Lie a haircut and a shave.”
“You’re weird,” he says politely.

Vote for Me!

Please go to Archery Talk and give me five stars for my article. I'm in it to win some archery equipment. If I win, you can have some deer jerky from the deer I kill with the bow if I win. Just follow the link below. Vote early and vote often.

http://www.archerytalkblog.com/?p=273

Bows and Arrows

While I wouldn't consider myself an archer, per se, I do own a compond bow and use it for hunting. Furthermore, I'm also into bow fishing as well.
Someone asked me, "Doesn't shooting fish with an arrow seem a bit unfair to you?"
I replied," No, it doesn't. On the other hand, the price of gas these days is terribly unfair."
My economic stimulus check is being put to good use since I bought another bow with a portion of that money. I just bought a Browning Impulse bow fishing bow.
Coincidentally, I bought this Impulse bow on the spur of the moment. Not really. I'd been looking for another bow to use for bow fishing.
I can't wait for it to get here. It's going to be great!
In the meantime, I found an archery website that is holding a writing contest. They claim to be giving some bows away.
I think I'll toss my hat into the ring for that one. To buy a bow is one thing. To win one is the best.
Wish me luck!

NEWS FLASH!!!!

There is video of a certain Possum Cop. Thanks to News 8 of Austin.

http://www.news8austin.com/content/your_news/default.asp?ArID=158126

Be sure to watch the whole thing. They save the best for last. Bear in mind that I was also about 20 pounds heavier then. That's after what the camera adds, of course.
To see it, click on the "watch video" in that little box. You'll have to turn off the pop-up blockers to see it.

Enjoy!

String Cheese Article - Number Six

2008 Olympics: The Year of the Rat
by Aryn Corley

Let the games begin.
In August of 2008, the games of the 29th Olympiad will be held in Beijing, China, amid the tumultuous masses unable to finish their third helping of General Tso’s chicken.
However, the games are already mired in controversy like a child’s toy slathered with generous helpings of lead-based paint.
The hullabaloo centers on China and its disaffection for Tibet. For those “out-of-the-loop,” Tibet is a province of China, which wants its independence and has no bikini team.
Strangely and probably due to Tibet’s Hollywood cheerleader, Richard Gere, Tibet is the world’s largest renter of the movie “Pretty Woman.”
Activists groups are calling for a boycott of the Olympics because of China’s harsh treatment of the Tibetan people. China’s reaction toward Tibet is the same as ours would be if Louisiana wanted its independence from the US.
Nevermind.
The Chinese may be a little heavy-handed in the way they mete out justice, but it keeps the graffiti off that big wall.
Some people think the International Olympic Committee made a big mistake by selecting China as a host nation for the Olympics. Such a blunder should be worthy of the IOC to change its initials to mean “Interfering with Original Coke.” The Olympic Torch relay has even been cut short, or outright canceled, in some cities because of safety concerns. I’m sure there’s a joke about the Olympic flame being in San Francisco, but I just can’t think of one.
Personally, I see the proverbial glass as half full of germs and bacteria. I’m fiendishly optimistic about the games being held in the country that pioneered gunpowder, fire drills and water torture.
I can just picture the opening ceremonies. The athletes from the other countries come running into the stadium in pure horror while tanks and “goose-stepping” army men escort the Chinese National Team. The Olympic flame would then be lit by one huge nuclear missile while the Chinese discus champ, Hu Flung Pu, looks on in patriotic wonder.
Then, all the malcontent youth could go get a Mao Tse-tung piercing?
I’m hoping there’ll be modifications to some of the games. You know, to make things a little more interesting. Who wouldn’t like to see 10 meter platform diver Jessica Livingston do an inward dive into a tank full of hammerhead sharks? Instead of a baton, the runners of the 4 x 100 meter relay can pass an egg roll.
If you come in last place for any of the events, it’s off to the stockade. The Chinese really have an opportunity to add a little flavor to the otherwise inherently drab Olympic competition.
I would love some brand new events to be added to the Olympic games. For example, there’s rickshaw driving. How cool would it be to see Dale Earnhardt Jr. win a gold medal for pulling tourists around an oval track for four hours? Instead of javelins, why not throw a chopstick to see how far it will go? I would suggest cat herding, but, as I understand it to be, cats are hard to find just roaming the streets there.
Of course the Olympics wouldn’t be the same without the blatant commercialism that comes with it. I fully expect Olympic sponsors to embrace the Chinese. I can totally see General Electric running ads like: “G.E., we bring good things to life. Flip the switch. It’s dead again.” Maybe we’d be fortunate to see a Wrigley’s gum ad, which proclaims, “Double your torture. Double your fun.” What could be more heartwarming than the ads showing the hundreds of underpaid workers laboring in a sweatshop making shoes for the Olympians with the words underneath reading: “Just Do It”?
The Olympics are an opportunity for nations to unite for a common purpose: to pit their steroid users against ours. The games shouldn’t be politicized or be used as a forum to bring about change. That’s what wars are for. The games are just that: games. Besides, if China does a good job with these Olympics, maybe the IOC could hold the next ones in Iraq.
I can’t help but recall the wisdom of that great Chinese philosopher and fortune cookie scribe, Confucius, who said, “ Man who eat crackers in bed wake up feeling crumby.”