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posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 7:58 AM 1 comments

Annual Hiatus 2008

Dr. Fing is on his annual fantasy football hiatus ... be sure to check back in January.

Thank you.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 4 comments

Are You Cranky?

I'll tell you what: When people (usually co-workers) say, "Smile," to me, it makes me want to not smile. And yet, I do, because it's the polite thing to do. In a less political world, I would respond with, "Lose weight," or something equally witty. I suppose I should smile more, but then I would need something to smile about -- like a joke, or free donuts, or noticing the misfortune of someone who has just told me to smile for no reason but to point out the fact that I appear surly.

When people say, "Look on the bright side," it makes me want to shoot them with a gun. Not a real gun -- a nerf gun that causes them to jerk their body back just enough to make them spill their coffee on themselves or some such.

When people ask if I'm cranky, they have just enacted what's known as a self-fulfilling prophecy. If I wasn't cranky before, I'm now livid because instead of taking my opinion seriously, they're belittling my dissenting view with a pretty transparent ad hominem attack. Boo.

When people tell me I look tired, it makes me want to punch them ... but it's always way too much effort (because I am tired).

Occasionally, someone will say something along the lines of, "If you had given me this two days ago, I could've signed you up at the discounted rate. Unfortunately, ..." That makes me so upset that I'm having trouble writing this as I think about the moron who is suggesting that I either find a time machine or start crying in order to show them just how sorry I am for being dumber than the rest of the world. I'm in a part of the world where time machines are hard to come by, so my only recourse is to compliment the person on their crushing blow to my soul.

Thank you for your letter. I wish I was in a better position to answer it, as I love to devote as much time to analyzing letters as my audience does in writing (and living) them. However, I am heading off to a fantasy football draft, and finding it very hard to concentrate on anything other than how I'm going to snag Tom Brady in the third round. If only I had received your letter a few days earlier, I could have given you some excellent advice relative to your problem. But rest assured, your issues are very important to me. Be well.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Facebook Craze

I like to consider myself a modern man. I have VOIP, I just bought a car with heated windshield wiper fluid, and I'm totally converted to halogen light bulbs throughout the house. But there's one cultural phenomenon that I haven't quite figured out yet: Facebook. Oh, I'm part of the facebook community -- don't worry about that. I'm not a totally worthless member of society. It's just that the drama is becoming more than I can handle.

I update my facebook page about once a week or less -- basically, when something interesting happens. I don't update it when I have trouble finding black socks or when I put gas in the car. I choose my friends carefully and I don't want to bore them with the mundane moments in my life. And speaking of friends, guess what? I don't acknowledge most people who ask me to be their friend. In fact, if there was a "Reject" button, I would choose that in most cases. As it is, I have to ignore their pleas for friendship, which is inefficient. Why can't there be an "acquaintance" option? And no, I'm not going out to Yo-ville to collect more friends. I don't need more friends. And I certainly don't want a bunch of friends dressed up as yogurt or whatever goes on out there.

Which brings me to my wife. She has really jumped into the facebook craze with both feet, posting photo albums and widgets and songs and sending stickers and blogging about how her new toothpaste isn't as good as the toothpaste she had before. That's all super, but don't expect me to be your friend if you're going to be that way. And yet, she does! She's giving me a hard time because I won't be her friend in facebook. Can you tell her that I live with her and I'm her friend in real life, so can we just leave my facebook persona out of it? Seriously.

Thank you for writing on my wall. Right now, I am thinking about how I can answer without sounding like I'm siding with this guy's wife. And right now, I am considering changing my smiley from a :^) to a :-). Lawrence is now a fan of Charlie The Unicorn.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Precious Preciousness

My husband and I have a good life -- a house in the suburbs, 2 newish cars, and we're celebrating the birth of our second child. So I should be happy, right? The problem is my dear husband's infernal nicknaming of our children. I don't know where it came from -- he always stayed within the bounds of normalcy with my name when we were dating. Now and then, he'd venture into acceptable terms of endearment like "Honey" or "Sweetie" or "Sugar Pie". And he left our friends' names alone, occasionally referring to "Alice" as "Malice", but that was okay because she's pretty much a b****.

Then came Zachary, our two-year-old. For a while there, Doug was branding him with a new name every day: "Z", "Z-man", "Z-dog", "Zach-O", "Zachinator", "Zachanary von Holstrom". It was as if he would spend all day at work thinking up what he would call his newborn son that evening. He has finally pretty much settled on "Hachary", which makes no sense whatsoever. And "Zachary" was his choice from the beginning! So why does he feel the need to corrupt it?

And now we have a new little one, a new lab animal for him to conduct his base experiments on. Only this one's a girl. And I got to name her. And I don't want him trampling all over her precious preciousness. I guess if he called her, "Precious Preciousness," that would be okay, but I just know he's going to make a mockery out of her. I seriously can't take it. I'm seriously going to leave him. I know that goes against convention, since he's a great guy in every other respect, but if he messes with Sulfur, he's going to find himself on the street renaming pebbles and broken glass...

Doug sounds like a big jerk. I can't imagine him toying with a beautiful name like "Sulfur", but if he does, that's surely a crossed line that requires action on your part. I usually promote reconciliation until it's no longer viable, but I think we both know where this is heading...

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Good Hair Day

Have you ever had one of those days where your hair was so perfect that you wished everyone could see it, and that all of your meetings and events, past & present, could be scheduled for that day/night? Why, oh why, can't my friend's wedding, my driver's license photo, and the first day at my new job be today? I actually get depressed when my hair is this perfect.

Just be glad you have hair. People who don't are depressed every day.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Smart Mob

It's been a depressing 4 months. We've had our house on the market since December and, so far, no bites. We average about 1.2 people/week coming through it, which is just enough to get it nice and dirty until that fateful call. I was close to giving up, until 2 days ago.

I'd heard about it, but never seen it for myself. It's known as a Smart Mob -- a group of people that appear somewhere "spontaneously" (although it's coordinated through the interweb) for a pre-determined duration. In this case, they congregated at our neighbor's house. It was so subtle, and so obvious at the same time. These people began arriving one car at a time, each casting a glance my way as I mowed the lawn. They were unmistakable house-stalkers -- people who are too timid to make a call or set up a house tour, but who are VERY interested in buying. So they usually drive by the house dozens of times, getting the lay of the land and imagining what the inside looks like.

But this was coordinated. There were balloons on the mailbox; several people brought boxes wrapped in gift-wrap -- probably telescopes and binoculars. One guy didn't even bother wrapping his box -- a cake memorializing the occasion. I wanted so badly to invite them over, but realized that this would be intrusive and would likely scare them off. All I can do now is sit by the phone and wait for the offers to start pouring in.

Brilliant. It would probably also be appropriate to turn down prospective visitors to your house. Incidentally, I'll be smart-mobbing it this weekend at a silent disco -- I'll be the guy without headphones.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 1 comments

Turn The Tables

I can't stand it. My kids are driving me crazy. I have a 4-month-old who sleeps fine -- it's my seven- and ten-year-old that keep me up. I could handle it if they were out till all hours, or talking on the phone with the opposite sex. But no, at least once a night (usually between 11:00 and 12:00), one of them invariably wakes me up to tell me they can't sleep because of a stuffy nose, or an itchy toe, or the cat took a crap on their pillow. Oh, YOU can't sleep?? I CAN sleep, but am prevented from doing so by you little ne'er-do-wells. It's no wonder I'm falling asleep at work ... which is bad since I'm a construction worker.

Yes, I feel your pain. Fortunately, because of my experience with this very thing, I'm able to confidently recommend a sound course of action: Turn the tables. For the next few nights, set your alarm for 2:00 a.m. and wander into your kids' rooms, announcing, "I can't sleep." Keep repeating yourself until you get a response. And when you leave the rooms, make sure to leave their doors open so that the cat has easy access to their pillows. It may seem counterproductive, but trust me -- after three nights, it'll finally sink in and they'll never bother you again. Good luck!

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Out Of Control

I had an interesting dream last night and wondered if you could shed some light on it. The part I remember went like this: I was driving down a snowy hill near my parents' house (where I haven't lived for quite some time), and I soon lost control of the car. Thinking quickly, I swerved into a golf course until my car came to a safe stop on the 18th green. I'm thinking this represents my out-of-control life, while highlighting my resourcefulness and ability to improvise. Do you agree?

I agree that you're an exceptionally bad driver. And I agree that your parents need you to move back into the area -- maybe even back into their house. And I agree that you spend too much time playing golf. Hope that helps.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Giggles And Grins

My trip to Giant Eagle:

To the guy in the parking lot who thought I took his space:
"I had my blinker on several milliseconds before you. Sorry I almost hit you, but you were obviously bluffing (since you stopped short). Next time you'll know I'm serious."

To the couple that I saw from church:
"Yeah, I don't dress up when I go to Giant Eagle. I don't wash my hair or even comb it, so don't look so shocked next time. Sorry I didn't stop and chat more, but you had your kids and I was annoyed just looking at them. See you Sunday!"

To the lady who kept ramming her shopping cart into my buttocks:
"I know you thought I jumped ahead of you in line, but in actuality, I was picking up my dry cleaning and the register at that end was closed, so the lady brought me over to your register. I hope you eventually got your very important lottery tickets."

To the guy who bought three boxes of condoms and nothing else:
"Dude, you couldn't grab a sale item or two on your way to the checkout line to make yourself less conspicuous? Is the world coming to an end, or were you making a run for your buddies? Or are you getting married and went for the lifetime supply?"

To the cashier who asked me about my kids:
"Yes, I bought diapers, but that doesn't mean I wanted to hear about YOUR kids and how they used to wear diapers when they were younger. It was so interesting to hear that they still eat baby food sometimes, just for giggles and grins. That's so good to know."

To the lady who just had to walk down the middle of the parking aisle while I was trying to drive away:
"Guess what? Pedestrians and cars can co-exist ... but not when you're walking where other people want to drive. Next time I'm going to honk very loudly and then you'll be sorry."

Thanks for using this as a forum to indulge yourself. Now it's my turn: free music pizza coupons 2008 calendar diet plans hdmi share photos. My webmaster says that'll help generate more hits. Let's hope.

By the way, you can tell a lot about a person from a quick shopping trip ... usually. Not in this case, but a lot of the time if you look really hard...

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Annual Hiatus 2007

Dr. Fing is on his annual fantasy football hiatus ... be sure to check back in January.

Thank you.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Zapping My Energy

I hired this guy who seemed smart enough. And he does a pretty good job with projects, customer communication, etc. But he has this cringe-inducing habit of either choosing the wrong word for the situation, or making up a new word altogether. I can stand it (almost), but he's become the joke of the office. What do I do? Some examples of Chris-speak:

"This office is really blush."

"You just need to give him a little more leedway."

"How am I supposed to wave through all these documents?"

"Ouch! That water is scolding hot!"

"You're really zapping my energy."

"I have this manual down packed."

"They never do anything. That department is like a sift."

"We should be able to test that in the third quarter, banning any emergency."

"But Carl, in his infamous wisdom, decided to hold off."

"If we do it that way, I guarantee you we'll get all kinds of slack."

"What projects are coming down the pipe?"

"This whole thing is a thiasco."

It really is getting to be a thiasco.

There's hope! Just kidding. Besides the obvious (firing the guy), you have little recourse. He's not going to learn his way out of this. If anything, he'll make up more and more words until he's speaking his own language. You could give him a dictionary, but that probably wouldn't get the message across. The only other thing you could do is to try to keep track of all of the words he butchers, and say them the right way repeatedly. This works with kids, but given the extent of the vocabulary you're working against, you'll probably end up fighting a losing battle. Changing jobs is probably your best option (other than firing the guy) -- anything else will just end up being an exercise in fertility.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Just Cliché

What do you get for the nephew who has everything? Or, more precisely, for the nephew who spends most of his waking hours riding his motorcycle in the nude? His birthday is next month.

Do we have the same nephew? Seriously. Here's what I gave my nephew last year, since a sweater wouldn't do him any good, and a gas card is just cliché: Dog tags. The great thing about dog tags is that they're cool for any age, and they'll help the police identify his body when he collides with a clothes-wearing truck driver. The perfect gift!

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Mixed Signals

I've had it with the zodiac. I just read mine for today:

Mixed signals are coming your way from someone at work or school, and that could signal a period of pretty intense ambiguity. You can deal with it, of course, but clarity won't come for quite a while yet.

That makes no sense, since I'm a homeless man. That got me thinking, though... How can 8.33% of the world can share the same horoscope? (I said I was homeless, not uneducated.) I'm also questioning why, since I'm looking for clarity in my life, would I buy into something telling me that clarity is a long way off?

I don't know a lot about astrology or horoscopes, but I do know they will never steer you wrong. For instance, I know for sure that I'm a Pisces, not because of my birth date, but because I love to eat fish -- any kind of fish (except that poisonous kind). I also know that there's a 50% chance that I will be a Cancer someday. Statistics don't lie, folks. I may not die from it, but my dad did, so the likelihood is high. Something else I know: Those personality profiles are a bunch of bunk, and a way to part you from your money. All you need to know is the geocentric positioning of the stars on the day you were born, not whether you're an introvert, an extrovert, or a pervert.

So shame on you for questioning your God-given destiny. I don't care if you're a Sagittarius, a Gemini, or a Capricola -- be proud and stand tall! And as a special bonus, here's a timely reading for Virgo dogs (of which I have 2):

You know what they say about bigger dogs: if you give them a shred of sinew they'll take the whole bone. Don't share your resources today because you may end up parting with more than you bargained for.

Think about it.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Totally Legal

I figured it out. And it's totally legal! I'm two months into my experiment of contracting poison ivy multiple times during the summer (for multiple summers), thus prompting my doctor to prescribe steroids for me. I'm pretty sure that I'm already feeling more muscular, and I've had many young ladies looking my way as I go about my day-to-day activities. That could be because of my freakish rash, but more likely due to my new physique. I just wanted to pass on the advice to one of the most frequented blogs on the planet.

P.S. One other piece of advice to your readers: Don't use bleach on poison ivy. I tried that once to "speed up" the healing process, and ended up with very bad burns.

1. Thanks for the plug.
2. You'll never get a big enough dose to do the trick. Good luck, though.
3. I'll always remember what my Grammy used to tell me everytime we'd visit her in Nebraska: "Skin should never come in contact with bleach, acid, or Boron -- Anyone who thinks it should is pretty much a complete moron."

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Pregnancy Sex

Nevermind.

Okay.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Doubly Redundant

I hate my wife. Actually, I just hate almost everything she does. One thing that she does that annoys the hell out of me is when she dissects my sentences while I'm trying to make my point during an argument. Example:
Her: "Well, you've done it again. You've embarrassed me in front of my friends. I'm so glad I married you -- You're a real catch. What was I, on drugs?"
Me: "You started attacking me right when we got there. You're like 'Your husband does that, too? And does he wear his LeBron James jersey to church, too?' You neglected to mention that I wore it UNDER my shirt for good luck."
Her: "Well, I really doubt that I ended two sentences in a row with the word 'too'. Plus, I was just making conversation. Something you could try once in a while."
Me: "How can I when you paint me as some dufus without any clue about anything?"
Her: "That's redundant. Actually, doubly redundant ... if that's even possible."

If she annoys the hell out of you, isn't that a good thing? After all, isn't hell bad? So aren't you saying that she gets rid of all of the bad things within you, building character and making you a better person? Plus, isn't it funny that the word 'dissect' has two 'S's instead of one? I wonder why that is...

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

All Giddy

I've found my soulmate...finally! Scott is so good-looking and charming; I get all giddy just thinking about him. And even though he's married, it turns out that his wife has terminal cancer. Plus, she's bipolar and refuses to take her medicine -- we all know what that means. Can you say "PMS times ten"? Plus, she has a rare condition that doesn't allow her to be intimate with him. My heart just goes out to Scott. He's such a good guy -- it's a crime that he's in such a destructive marriage. I'm so thankful that I'm able to be there for him. We get to see each other at work and at the occasional sports event (his sons play soccer and basketball), but he turns into a different person when he's with his wife. I think he's embarrassed of her. How can I bring him out of his shell?

His wife needs to accept the fact that she's dying and that there's someone else who can make him happy. The best way for her to get the inevitable through her thick skull is for you to be as affectionate as possible in public. You might try inviting them both into your home to start the transition process. Scott is a lucky man to have found you. I know you guys will be happy together for many, many months.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

The Ruse

I don't know what to do about "Lisa". We're pretty hot and heavy into an affair, but she's becoming less and less discreet. This whole thing's going to blow up in my face. The only thing saving us is the fact that my wife is the most naive person in the world. I've told Ginger that when she's around my wife she has to ignore me, or be cool about it, but she can't seem to help herself. I'm just so good-looking and charming that she just has to throw herself at me. So then I have to act all aloof. Meanwhile, my wife just fumes and I have to hear about Ginger all the way home. I tell her that she's flirtatious with everyone at work also, and the company is losing money because of her. What do I do about her?

Well, it would be a mistake to break off the relationship at this stage, since it sounds like you're happy when you're (alone) together. And the important thing is your happiness, as well as keeping this from your wife. Do you have any kids you can use to distract your wife for you? Maybe pay them off to help with the ruse?

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Extra Mile

I have been married to "Scott" for several years. He's a wonderful man. It's the second marriage for me, the third for Scott. We are in our 40s and attend a lot of school sporting events for his youngest sons. We live in a small town. Scott grew up here and knows everyone. My problem is the mother of one of the team members. We'll call her "Delilah". She is married but seems to have issues. She's obnoxiously flirtatious with Scott. Her husband has not accompanied her to many of the games, and her behavior is escalating. I'm not usually a jealous person, but this is getting annoying. I have, until this point, always been nice to her. I even complimented her on losing weight once, even though it didn't look like she had lost any. And why is it that she can't just let her "come get me" outfits do the work for her, instead of going the extra mile in case there are blind people who haven't noticed her? I'm just wondering how Scott can stand seeing her every day at work. She must be quite a bother, because he frequently has to stay at the office late to get all the work done that Chatty Cathy wouldn't let him do. So what can I do about this?

You may want to consider pulling your (his) sons out of the sporting events. You don't need the aggravation. Or, if Scott insists, he can go alone and suffer through Delilah's advances while you take a bath.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Two Years Later

I feel bad. I'm a doctor and I told this guy he had a year to live, at most. He has since quit his job, divorced his wife, taken eight vacations (two to Italy), married a young woman from Italy (not sure how young), spent all of his money (on vacations and such), announced to one of his sons that he's his favorite, and stopped recycling (even though he continues to drink milk). I don't even want to think about all those milk cartons sitting in landfills.

It turns out that I made a mistake. I thought he had a tumor, but now, two years later, it turns out it was just his second kidney (I thought we had removed it, but I was going off of memory, and didn't bother to check his records). He's due to come back into the office next week and I don't know what to say. And what if he sues? Help!

Honesty is always the best policy. In this case, honesty looks like:
1) There's no longer a tumor;
2) He hasn't been following his treatment regimen (which probably would've curtailed his carefree behavior);
3) Has he ever heard of getting a second opinion? If there's one thing all of us can take away from this, it's to GET A SECOND OPINION. This just applies to medical conditions, of course -- not psycho-analysis.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Generally Sucking

So I finally let my boyfriend give me a massage last night, but it goes wrong for two reasons:
1) I have tactile sensitivity, especially with him;
2) He used hair conditioner instead of hand cream.

In case you didn't know, hair conditioner on the skin (in the absence of water) has the opposite effect of hand cream, flaking and generally sucking the moisture from your body. He says it was an accident, but I'm wondering if this is grounds to dump him? Oh, this isn't an isolated incident. Cases in point:

He forgot my birthday;

He forgets my name;

He insults me in front of his friends. This isn't as bad as it sounds, since he often calls me by the wrong name, thus unwittingly directing the insult elsewhere.

So can I break up with him?

Unlike marriage, you don't really need a reason to break up with your boyfriend. In fact, it's not uncommon for people to make up reasons (even to justify divorce). But I don't think you even need to go that far. The hair conditioner notwithstanding, here are my
Top 5 Reasons To Dump This Guy (in no particular order):
1) He can't remember important dates.
2) You don't like it when he touches you.
3) He doesn't care about you enough to remember your name.
4) He's a tool.
5) He's a total tool.

Please break up with him so the "future you" doesn't e-mail me asking if you should be allowed to quit one of your night jobs once baby #6 comes...

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Spent

I'm getting pretty sick of my eight-year-old son. I gave him money for the concession stand last night, with the clear stipulation not to spend it all. Sure enough, he spent it all. I got so mad that I told him
a) You're never getting money from me again ... ever.
b) You're the most irresponsible person I know in the whole world.
c) You're just like your father.

It would've and should've ended there, but then another parent told me I was way out of line. I wasn't, was I?

Not if you're the father. But if you are the father, that's just weird, even apart from the broadbrush statements.

Now if you're the mother, you have some rage issues that you should see a psychiatrist about -- Not me, though. I can't handle being yelled at.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 1 comments

Dance Heads

Here are my kids doin' the green screen thang: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y11pWnDU2LI

Judging from this, your kids are promiscuous and have the special ability to morph their bodies, but not their heads. You're going to want to buy my "Lifetime Membership" consultation package for only $9,999.00. That covers you for the rest of your life, as well as up to one guest per month (it doesn't have to be the same guest each month). Happy Trails.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 1 comments

No Time

I'm living in 2 dimensions. In this dimension, I'm a waitress and it's about 3:00 a.m. In my other dimension, there's no time, and I can control the events in my life, sort of like dreams sometimes. Sometimes when I dream, I remember my past lives, like when I was a cowboy and got shot accidentally. And then my last life, which I can't remember too well. I just remember that I got crushed somehow. By a large building, maybe. Anyway, do you think maybe this life is a dream, and my other dimension is real life?

Well, I'm not too sure about that, but I will tell you this: I wish that there was no time in this dimension. That way you wouldn't have wasted any of mine.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Miss Diversity

My friend is getting married. As a member of her large wedding party, she wants me to feel included in her special day and informed of every wedding detail. She calls me at work to tell me about her planning and when we are together, she brings every conversation right back to her wedding. Her special day is almost a year away. Is there a polite way to tell her that I miss diversity?

There is. If her name is Tootsie (which I assume that it is), just say, "Listen, Toots, find something else to talk about." For emphasis, it would also be an appropriate time to say, "You're killing me ... and our friendship."

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Survival

My family has been going through Survivor withdrawal now that it's off the air. So to pass the time till the next airing (2/8), we've started our own game: Dalton Family Survivor Challenge (DFSC for short).

Everything was going so well. On day 2, Team Meerkat (me, Timmy, & our cat Sushi) won the Reward Challenge, which was a race to see who could paint a room the fastest. It was a little unfair, since I'm home all day, and Henry was traveling, but a win's a win. And in this case, a win resulted in a Kohl's gift card. Not great news for Timmy & Sushi, but good news for me.

The Immunity Idol was up for grabs on day 4, and a heated game of Guesstures turned tragic for Team Meerkat as Sushi couldn't even muster one point to send it into overtime. For that reason (and many others), Sushi was voted out on day 6.

As often happens on the TV show, the tide turned the following week. Day 8 found Henry, Missy (our 5-year-old), & Quizno (our hamster) winning the Reward Challenge, but losing the Immunity Challenge 2 days later. Then, in the most shocking tribal council ever, Missy was voted out on day 12, which meant that she joined Sushi out in the 14 degree weather for the remainder of the game. My question to you is this: Is it okay to call our neighbor and suggest that they take her in for a few weeks?

I'm sick to my stomach right now. The fact that you would cross tribal lines and make a call on an enemy's behalf says a lot about your gameplay, and I dare say you won't be playing the game much longer with that kind of propensity toward distraction. Your husband, on the other hand, is obviously one savvy player, tricking Missy into voting for herself (the most likely of the two scenarios). Good luck to your husband, though I doubt he'll need it. And shame on Timmy for flying under the radar thus far...

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 2 comments

Proof Of Life

I'm not a proud man ... or a man devoid of emotion. I'm just a man who believes that men have no business crying or showing their true feelings. That's why I was so disgusted with myself when I watched "Proof Of Life" (Russell Crowe, Meg Ryan, David Morse) for the first time last week, and found myself tearing up at the end. I don't want to spoil anything, so let's just say that Meg Ryan was reunited with her kidnapped husband (David Morse) at the end, and Russell Crowe (the negotiator) was forced to return to his old life and leave his soulmate (Meg Ryan) in a story of celebration and heartbreak. So anyway, I couldn't help but break down at the end, my heart going out to all three main characters, and I wondered if you could tell me if it's manly to cry -- just once in a while.

Don't worry... It's manly to cry. The only thing more manly is to punch yourself in your sissy face after you're done wetting yourself. However, I can identify. I remember a few months ago when my family ran out of paper towels. Something inside me knew, as I used the last one, that my world was about to come crashing down, but I refused to believe it. For two long days, I was forced to use kleenex and moldy washcloths to clean up incidental messes that screamed for something much more effective. When I finally had a chance to run to the store, it was almost too late. My body had begun to convulse and most of my internal organs had started decomposing as my heart longed for the disposable sturdiness that can only be found in paper towels. Fortunately, it wasn't until I arrived home with 48 rolls of the blessed product that the flood of emotions overcame me and I wept with joy and regret. I now keep 2 rolls of paper towels stored in a safe place should this disaster ever occur again, and I believe I'm a better man for having endured it once.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Biggest Loser

I don't know why I'm writing -- I guess I just need some motivation. I finally got up the nerve to sign up with Weight Watchers (because of my weight), but then I saw a commercial for Wheel Watchers (you know, Wheel Of Fortune with that hunk, Pat Sajak). Anyway, I came to the realization that I'm not so much disgusted with my weight as I am yearning for something to keep track of. And given the choice between my weight and Pat Sajak's hair, the decision was easy. So now I'm a member of the Wheel Watchers Club and loving every minute of it. That's where you come in -- I still need motivation to lose weight.

That's easy. I assume you have your own personal SPIN I.D. by now, and you'll notice in your Wheel Watchers Club Newsletter (back page, usually) that you can parlay that into an online application to be on the show. But, of course, to be on the show you have to not be hideously huge, so there's your motivation. When you do make it on, tell Vanna it's been too long since her last visit to my couch.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments

Annual Hiatus 2006

Dr. Fing is on his annual fantasy football hiatus ... be sure to check back in January.

Thank you.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM 0 comments