Skip to main content

By "popular" demand? Up top!

I never thought that I would remotely see the day when people actually asked me to update this shrine to my own ego that some call "a blog." But the impossible happened, and I'm back in blogging business.
The other reason that I've decided to do it is that from now until April 26th, I'm going to have over 60 pages of papers due. (Pause so that all men reading this will say "Wow. What a man!" and so that all women will take pity on me and offer to cuddle). So for the next 4 weeks while I'm twitching due to sleep deprivation and Red Bull overdoses, I'll find more time to get away from James Joyce and Tennyson and start aimlessly ranting about nothing at all.

Kind of like the resurgence of the high five. Recently, Man Law has determined that the high five is going out of style and is overplayed. Jerome Bettis testified that he gave his teammates a high five after the Super Bowl...but he also gave a stranger on the street a high five after he found a great parking spot. Burt Reynolds offered a continuance on the five until a better alternative is found.

Well, I doubt that's ever going to happen because the high five is classic and timeless. Who'd have thought there would be so many nuances to a simple hand slap?
The Todd has demonstrated the full range of potential for the five. The pride of the surgical staff at Sacred Heart Hospital, Todd has blessed the world with such variations as the Miracle Five, Mental Five, Betrayal Five, I Miss You Five, Self Five, Face Five, Tough-Break Five, Hypothetical Five, Assisted Five, Sterile High Five, Air Five, Inflatable Five, Fist Five, Euphemism Five, Breast-Stroke Five, Hot Belly Sex Five, Make-it-Stop Five, Cyber Five, Duct Tape Five, Let's Get Our Last Day On Five, Five Up High For Cherry Pie, Something Might be Wrong Five, Weenie Roast Five, Mind Five, Sterile Five, Skeptical Air Five, and In Trouble Five.

Borat has also done his job to bring the five back from relative obscurity, proving that inopportune moments are perfect for slapping palms.

So if I see you at a party, get ready for a high five. Because whether you just got rejected, hooked up with a "Sunday Morning Facebook Photo" kind of girl, or just bagged a 7 (Claremont Scale equivalent of a 10), I will slap your hand. It may be a soft one, imparting a notion of remorse, or it may be such a high five that you have to ice your palm for the next two days. But no matter how red your hand may be, just remember that the only things more American than a high five are the bacon cheeseburger and Columbus Day.



Oh, and Naomi also asked me to add two fun facts about the state of Georgia. One of which had something to do with the 5th most police brutality, but I really don't remember exactly. You'll understand why when I tell you that the second factoid is that oral sex is illegal in the Peach State. So allow me to recap. General George T. Sherman salted the land and took away the ground's fertility. Ted Turner took away the state's credibility. And now the legislation has taken away the right to mouthification. Just another reason why if I was from Georgia, I would ice myself.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

It was labor day weekend, I was 17. I bought a coke and some gasoline.

It's currently day three of my blogging adventure, and David Delgado has still not accepted my challenge to get off of his lazy ass and start writing. This is why a hunger strike may be necessary. If Mr. Delgado does not cave in and post a new entry by the end of this week, then on November 14th, I, Max Davison, will officially pull a Ghandi and abstain from eating for as long as it takes. Homer Simpson also utilized this tactic when the Springfield Isotopes were planning on moving to Albuquerque. It worked then, and it will work now if necessary. Onto the blogging... I had a rather pleasant dinner at the Ath tonight. It was a class dinner for Prof. Busch's GOVT20 class. The highlights included conversations about the Ivory Coast, strange roommates, and (most importantly) they had some great cheesecake. So great, in fact, that we raided the empty tables to ensure ourselves some extra slices. Cheesecake. I love it. Occasionally, I'm not sure if I want cake or a dairy

25 October 2007 - I'm not sure what his appeal is, but he deserves better

Superman has kryptonite. Mike Tyson has Buster Douglas. Vince Young has grammar. We all have our weaknesses. But mine is a little bit more embarassing than any of the aforementioned (apart from VY's hatred of the present tense): dumb romantic comedies. Yes, it's not something that I like to admit and it's a vice probably better suited for the Probie or Sean Garrity , but I just like to sit down for an hour and a half, turn my brain off and watch two people fall in love. And apart from the Hanks/Ryan classics (which were ruined for me after Meg ditched Dennis Quaid for Cinderella Man ), there is one thread that links all of my favorites: Hugh Grant. I mean, just look at the guy. When he's not getting arrested for picking up hookers on Sunset (here's a better shot of the man), he's the epitome of the 90 minute romance. He's got "endearingly befuddled" down to an art form, he's also got perfect comedic timing and if you've ever seen hi

24 September 2007 - The One Where Max Curses the Ayatollah

I've been reading up on the Middle east recently. It all started when I watched "Syriana" and was thoroughly confused. Although, watching George Clooney get tortured gave me the same sort of orgasmic bliss that I get from watching Kirk Gibson hobble around second base. Before I started studying, Ayatollah Khomeini was just that guy on the t-shirt that Homer refused to sell at his yard sale. So I have resolved to take as many Gov't classes when I get back to CMC. I'm prepared to ditch my ignorance about that giant bed of sand that happens to be floating on a sea of oil. But in my honest opinion, the greatest victim in the ongoing war between Islam and freedom has to be Yusef Islam, the artist formerly known to the world as Cat Stevens. In 1978, Cat Stevens converted to Islam and left the pop scene to focus on education and philthropy. In 1989, he called for Salman Rushdie's head on a platter, insisting He must be killed. The Koran makes it clear - if som