What is love?

More than once I have been asked by my single friends, "What is love?"

Love is packing your wife's feminine hygiene products in your carry on bag. Why? Because your wife doesn't want to explain to a random stranger why she is a carrying cream designed for her body. Oh no, it less embarrassing if airport security pulls me aside for being a creepy threat.

Security: "Excuse me sir, did you pack your own bags today?"

Me: "Of course. Is there some sort of problem?"

Security: "You didn't declare this cream in your bag." (At this point your wife walks away. Why? She doesn't need to be embarrassed.)

Me: "Well sir that's what we call love."

Security: "Well your love is going in the trash can."

My point: Sometimes its better to be quiet than right.

In and Out

"All chicks in Southern California want to date In-N-Out managers."

Immediately, I was rolling on the floor laughing when my buddy told me this. Quickly, he fires back, "Upper management is making a minimum of 80K a year."

Me: "Really, 80K a year? For that amount of money you can get a nice minivan and live in the suburbs... a gold-digger's dream."

Him: "You don't know anything, there are In-N-Out groupies. These girls go to the bars where the managers hang out. They even know when payday hits."

Me: "Did these girls not make the cut as NFL groupies?"

Him: "I can't explain anything to you, because you never worked at In-N-Out."

Me: "Let's go out tonight and start telling women I'm a shift manager at McDonald's... I bet they'll be all over me."

Him: "Are you crazy!!! McDonald's sucks. Everyone knows they stiff their employees and use frozen patties."

My point: 80k a year? Pass me an application.

Red Heads...

In the 1993 cult classic movie, Dazed and Confused, Wooderson (Matthew Mcconaughey) proclaimed, "I love those red heads, man."

I brushed off this comment until a friend of mine told me about his infatuation with red heads. (On his 10 scale, red heads automatically receive a 2 point upgrade.)

Him: "I don't know what it is. I just love that red hair and everyone knows they are the best kissers."

Me: "What?... I'm pretty sure that is not statistically proven."

Him: "That's why you became a minister because you don't know anything."

Me: "No I became a minister because... well I'm not 100% sure why I became a minister, but I know red heads are not the best kissers."

Him: "I can tell you have never kissed a redhead. They have something to prove, which makes them better kissers."

Me: "What about women who dye their hair red? Are they trying to become better kissers.?

Him: "I'm not sure, but I'm willing to risk it."

My point: I did the research at snopes.com and they can neither confirm nor deny this rumor.

Top 10 worst fashion statements

As I left the house tonight wearing my velcro sneakers, I was reminded of the top 10 fashion faux pas of my life.

10. Overalls and dress shirts... I wore this outfit more than once on a date to an upscale BBQ restaurant.

9. Boxer shorts that were longer than my soccer shorts... pretty much the reverse of "bustin' a sag".

8. The Canadian tuxedo... aka the all denim outfit.

7. Just a couple weeks ago, I wore a green suit. Not that big of a deal, except I thought it was dark gray and I planned accordingly. In case you didn't know purple ties don't bring out the color of the coat.

6. The tuxedo pants at my wedding... who knew I needed athletic cut? My dad told me I looked like I had on seal skins.

5. An Atlanta Braves hat to a LA Dodgers home game... I was almost killed in front of my mother. Luckily she stood up for me and the unruly Dodgers fans backed off.

4. Bugle Boy Jeans with a matching purple Bugle Boy v-neck sweater... do I need to say more?

3. Polyester shirts with zippers... Really? Zippers on my shirt?

2. Jordache high tops... I saved for two months to buy these bad boys. Then a fellow sixth-grader shouted, "I've never heard of Michael Jordache, does he play for the Chicago Bulls too?"

1. Hammer Pants... we couldn't afford the real MC Hammer pants, so my sweet mother sewed a pair for me to wear in 6th grade. I show up to school way too excited, only to hear, "He's wearing a Hefty bag for some pants." "Did you steal those from your grandmother?." "Hey genie come grant me a wish." My one wish... that people would realize my mom was a master seamstress.

My point: Good thing my dad wouldn't splurge on my desire for some parachute pants.

Eric Corff... legend?

Plastered all over Telluride are professionally made stickers that proclaim, "Eric Corff... what a D____bag (I actually edited this a little, but you can insert the name of a female hygiene product.) These stickers can be found in every local bar, outside of restaurants, on lamp posts, park benches, trashcans, and you've guessed it- even chair lifts. Yet, I've never seen them for sale. Someone is on a personal vendetta against this guy. I've always figured it was an ex-girlfriend, but this was just a theory.

After seeing these stickers everywhere I am left to ask what did Eric Corff do? Who exactly did he offend? Believe it or not there is no Wikipedia article for him. He's not listed on Classmates.com, Myspace, or Linkedin. Who is this mystery man?

My plan was to find this guy on Facebook and ask him straight up about the stickers, but no such luck. Besides my dad, who doesn't have a Facebook page? In cyber-defeat, I decided to go old school on this one... I took it to the streets. I began asking some "townies", "Who is this legend, Eric Corff?" The answer I most commonly received, "He's a D_______G!" I understand that, I want to know what he did to deserve this title.

Finally, a friend coughed up this info. Eric moved to Telluride a couple years ago from New York, and no doubt a Yankee's fan. Apparently he decided it would be in his best interests to pursue his best friend's fiance. From what I understand the fiance was receptive to Mr. Corff's advances which lead to his bad name all over our small town.

In closing, will Eric Corff become the next Bobby Fisher? If you're out there Eric Corff, please set the record straight. Prove to me and everyone else who sees these stickers on a daily basis (We've heard they've even made it all the way to Montgomery, AL.) that you're not who they say you are, but you're a good guy.

My point: Telluride, Colorado: The place where LEGENDS are born.

Van Halen

This past Monday, my wife and I were at a local sports bar watching Monday night football. Suddenly, "Why Can't This Be Love," by Van Halen comes on. This lady at the bar, who had been over-served, starts yelling, "Turn up the Van Halen!"

Politely, the bar tender replies, "I think its up loud enough."

She fires back, "What kind of place is this? Do you want to rock or not?" After this statement, my wife and I are caught snickering in the corner.

Like a wild chinchilla, the lady turns to us. "Don't you want to hear them pump the Van Halen?"

Like an idiot I replied, "We can hear it just fine from here. You can always move closer to the speaker." (My wife on the other hand wants to support this lady and her Farrah Fawcett hair.)

She fires back, "I love David Lee Roth and we need to make this place rock." At this point, she tries to start a revolt at the bar.

My point: I don't want to rock and last time I checked that's a song by Sammy Hagar.

Why would you ask that?

Yesterday my wife woke up full of joy as usual. Happy to be alive. Beautiful as the day the Lord made her.

Then she drops this on me, "What would do if you were a quadriplegic?"

Instantly, I snap back, "Nothing. I would literally do nothing."

Undeterred she presses on, "I was reading a book about a man who was completely paralyzed, but despite all his problems he remained positive. It really was a beautiful story. I just wanted to know what you would do?"

Again I fire back, "Nothing... I would do nothing. Why are we even talking about this?"

"Honey, you don't need to get defensive."

"I wake up. I feel great. I'm completely healthy. Why would I want to envision myself being completely paralyzed? I need to be focusing on great things happening."

"Well SOMEONE is in a bad mood."

My point: First thing in the morning, try to ask me easy questions like, "What would like for breakfast?"