All NHL Players Are Using Performance Enhancing Hair Drugs

The SO is from Michigan where you're required to root for the Detroit Red Wings or be banished from the state. With the Wings actually making it past the first round for the first time in a few years, I've watched more hockey than normal.

What hockey players lack in teeth they make up for in hair.

This has allowed me to capture data for my theory that all NHL players are using performance enhancing hair drugs (PEHDs)! Pro athletes are putting things in their bodies that I wouldn't touch outside of a trip to Tijuana, yet the NHL's PEHDs make a strong case to experiment. Perhaps the testosterone injections in the NHL grow more hair than the HGH used in other leagues. No matter how they do it, no other sports league has better heads of hair.

Exhibit A: The Meadowlands, January 2003. An out-of-focus picture of Brendan Shanahan by B and T Crowd shows his beautiful flowing locks.

Checkout any team's roster. I challenge you to find 1/4 of the players with even the slightest hint of male pattern baldness. I've wondered why so many have full head's of hair even with the abuse their follicles take from constant helmet wearing. It doesn't seem natural. It doesn't seem right. It doesn't seem fair. NHL playoff teams even flaunt their hair prowess by growing beards seemingly overnight, vowing not to shave until their season ends. Some may get hair implants, but drugs are more reliable.

Exhibit B: Chelios is 46, yet has the hair of a 20-year-old. Someone this age shouldn't still be playing by natural means nor have this amount of hair...something fishy is going on here.

Side Red Wings story: A few years ago, in my early years of courting the SO, I took her up and back in a night to see the Devils host the Wings (in northern NJ). The Devils ended up winning 1-0. The SO still argues that the Devils "cheated" which means the victory doesn't count in her mind. Meanwhile my go-to argument is, "all I know is my team beat your team in person. Ipso facto, the Devils are better than the Wings for eternity." Occasionally I'll go to my reserves and remind her the Devils beat the Wings for the 1994-5 Stanley Cup, long before we became "us." This inevitably leads to her not talking to me the rest of the day.

Exhibit C: 20 years after his career began, Jagr still rocks a full head of hair, albeit not the mullet from 1990. Biology and age normally prevent this.

The main explanation I can think is that NHL players are using some super strength Rogaine that hasn't been approved by the FDA. Or maybe it's just a Canadian/European issue. Do other countries put Rogaine in their tap water? Maybe the Canadian/European super hair growth DNA gets destroyed after the first generation of immigrants to the U.S. I've got a Russian and German mixture in me, yet I don't need monthly haircuts. It must have been lost in translation.

The Hansons ensured an authentic hockey movie with lots of hair.

I've started to thin on top, but it isn't noticeable except to the SO and my hairdresser. When the time comes for sunblock on my scalp, I'd love to get my hands on what the NHLPA passes out for its members' beautiful manes.

Sunrise to Sunset to Sunrise = 21-Hour Workday

I've slept all of 30 minutes in the last 33 hours, 21 hours of which were in front of my computer at work. Arriving at 7:30a Wednesday and leaving at 4:30a Thursday, it was a mighty shift. I left the apartment as the sun rose only to see it rise again the next day without a break. Days morphed into each other and my slow-to-develop 5 o'clock shadow made a rare appearance in the office. It felt like I was running some charity telethon on TV where I earned money the longer I was on air. With each passing hour I became deliriously laugh-happy, making jokes when there were none and laughing when none were made.



Slacker! I stayed awake without coffee. The only caffeine I got was from a single bottle of Coca-cola.


My eyes were bloodshot and my lumbar constantly reminded me I needed a different chair. My deodorant quit working after sunset, thereby allowing a slow sweat to seep into everything I wore and every person's olfactory within five feet. I was a sight for sore eyes...the eyes being my own looking into a mirror. I must have advanced my Carpal Tunnel development at least a decade.



I've finished my 21-hour training to host the next Jerry Lewis MDA telethon.

How To Beat A Case Of The Mondays

A smattering of Demetri's one-liners include (courtesy captainhead.wordpress):

• “I think that when you get dressed in the morning, sometimes you’re really making a decision about your behavior for the day. Like if you put on flipflops, you’re saying: ‘Hope I don’t get chased today.’

• “I saw a guy at a party wearing a leather jacket and I thought, ‘That is cool.’ But then I saw another guy wearing a leather vest and I thought, ‘That is not cool’. Then I figured it out: ‘Cool’ is all about leather sleeves.”
  

• “‘Sort of’ is such a harmless thing to say. Sort of. It’s just a filler. Sort of - it doesn’t really mean anything. But after certain things, sort of means everything. Like after ‘I love you’ or ‘You’re going to live’ or ‘It’s a boy.’”"I was in a store and I saw a pocket dictionary and that made me laugh because it’s such…a specific item. I don’t know that many words and I’m going out…and I have pants. Perfect!”

• “When you have a fat friend there are no see-saws. Only catapults.”

• “I like fruit baskets because it gives you the ability to mail someone a piece of fruit without appearing insane. Like, if someone just mailed you an apple you’d be like ‘Huh? What the hell is this?’, but if it’s in a fruit basket you’re like ‘This is nice!.’”

• “I feel stupid when I write the word banana. Its like, how many na’s are on this thing? ‘Cause I’m like ‘Bana … keep going. Bananana … damn.’

• “I like clothes, you know. I dig fabrics. One of my favorite clothing patterns is camouflage. Because when you’re in the woods it makes you blend in. But when you’re not it does just the opposite. It’s like, ‘Hey, there’s an asshole.’ But when you’re in the woods you’re like, ‘Is there an asshole out here?’ They look like trees.”

• “I wanna make a jigsaw puzzle that’s 40,000 pieces. And when you finish it, it says ‘go outside.’”

• “Swimming is a confusing sport, because sometimes you do it for fun, and other times you do it to not die. And when I’m swimming, sometimes I’m not sure which one it is. I gotta go by the outfit. Pants - uh oh. Bathing suit - okay. Naked - we’ll see. Should I be swimming faster, or am I getting laid?”

• “Saying ‘I’m sorry’ is the same as saying ‘I apologize.’ Except at a funeral.”

• “Some jokes are short and elegant, like a mathematical proof or a midget in a ballgown.”

• “One of my friends has a stutter and a lot of people think that’s a bad thing, but to me that’s just like starting certain words with a drum roll. That’s not an impediment, that’s suspense! What’s he going to say? Car?? …or Carnival?? …Carburetor!?!? Man…

• "I like when good things happen to me, but I wait two weeks to tell anyone because I like to use the word ‘fortnight.’”

• "I think vests are all about protection. You know what I mean? Like a lifevest protects you from drowning and bulletproof vests protect you from getting shot and the sweatervest protects you from pretty girls. ‘Leave me alone. Can’t you see I’m cold just right here?’”

• “I like the beach. I like to get there really early before everyone else shows up and take like thirty bottles with notes in them and throw them into the water. Then I wait for everyone to come to the beach and when someone goes to pick up one of the bottles, I go up behind them because when they open it there’s a note saying ‘I’m standing right behind you.’”

• “I used to play sports. Then I realized you can buy trophies. Now I’m good at everything.”

• “I wrapped my Christmas presents early this year, but I used the wrong paper. See, the paper I used said ‘Happy Birthday’ on it. I didn’t want to waste it so I just wrote ‘Jesus’ on it.”

• “I went into a clothes store and a lady came up to me and said “if you need anything, I’m Jill”. I’ve never met anyone with a conditional identity before.”

• “The digital camera is a great invention because it allows us to reminisce. Instantly.”

• My friend Steve likes cats. People are always saying “Oh, Steve’s really a cat person”. No he’s not. If Steve were a cat person it’d be, like, “Hey, Steve never goes in the pool”.

• If I ever saw an amputee getting hanged, I’d probably just start calling out letters.

• I love women, but I feel like you can’t trus

• t some of them. Some of them are liars, you know? Like I was in the park and I met this girl, she was cute and she had a dog. And I went up to her, we started talking. She told me her dog’s name. Then Í said, “Does he bite?”. She said “No.” And I said, “Oh yeah? Then how does he eat? … Liar.”

• I think it would be cool, if you were writing a ransom note in Microsoft Word, and it popped up, the paperclip and said, “It looks like you’re writing a ransom note… need some help? You should curse more.” The paperclip would be all messed up, you know? I never saw a paperclip with tattoos before.

• Graffiti… I don’t like graffiti, unless it teaches me something, you know? Like “Oh, that’s how Alex feels about Maria. I wouldn’t have known if I had not walked by there, thank you.” Graffiti’s the most passionate literature there is, you know? It’s always like “Bush sucks!”, “U2 Rocks!”. I want to make indifferent graffiti. “Toy Story 2 was okay!” “I like Sheryl as a friend, but I’m not sure about taking things further”, “This is a bridge!”, “That guy’s right!”

• A quick way to start a conversation is to say something like “What’s your favorite color?” A quick way to end a conversation is to say something like “What’s your favorite color…person?”

• My friend had a burrito. The next day he said, “That burrito did not agree with me.” I was like, “Was the disagreement over whether or not you’d have diarrhea? Let me guess who won.” “I tried to reason with it, I insisted, you know. I was like, ‘I wanna go outside, I like these pants, but the burrito had his way.’”

• I heard this lady say “I love kids.” That’s nice, a little weird though. It’s like saying “I like people, for a little while.” You can say “I love kids” as a general statement, that’s fine. It’s when you get specific that you get in to trouble. “I love twelve-year-olds.”

• I was on the street. This guy waved to me, and he came up to me and said, “I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.” And I said, “I am.”

Here's his standup from 1994 for you to enjoy (video after 14:20 wasn't as funny).

A Pat On My Back From Myself

I write this blog because I love to write.

I'm aware of several blog subscribers in addition to the guaranteed readership of my SO, my parents, MoCoLotion, Sammy, and my aunt in Naperville (the dedicated midwest reader). However, I must admit it's nice getting noticed outside of this inner circle...to which I pat myself on the back for a DC blog mentioning trifecta (or triple crown because the Preakness is this weekend) for yesterday's post about men running without shirts.

How to mechanically pat yourself on the back.

As of 7 PM, the entry's dedicated page had been read almost 150 times. Not yet in the top 20 of dedicated blog page views, but not bad for only two days either. You no longer have to feel ashamed to read my blog because you are not alone. I appreciate the support.

Washington City Paper:

http://www.washingtoncitypaper.com/blogs/citydesk/2008/05/12/nipple-direction/

DCBlogs.com:

http://dcblogs.com/?p=924

Washington Post Express (7 MB PDF link that'll be inactive in two weeks):

Page 32: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/express/pdfs/EXPRESS_05122008.pdf

Nobody Wants To See Your Chest Hair When You Run

Have you ever finished a long run wanting to throw up? No, not from too many hills, but from seeing too many sweaty guys without their shirts on (see: Matthew McConaughey).

We are facing an epidemic throughout the DC metro area’s running trails…guys running without their shirts. I will try to think of a few reasons why a guy would think this makes sense…only to shoot them down from my holier than thou blogging perch of course.

I don't care if you're an awful actor, running shirtless is inexcusable.

1. “When I run past that girl, she’ll stop and ask me out because of my body.” Ummm, right. Has anyone seen, heard, or experienced this scenario? The SO says this is the male equivalent to girls running in sports bras and short shorts, clearly letting us know they don’t care about comfort. The woman who goes after this guy is the same as the ultra-shallow, ultra-desperate, ultra-pathetic girls watching Tom Cruise at the volleyball court in Top Gun.

It's just like an Abercrombie and Fitch photo shoot.

One request before I continue. Will all shirtless guys running around in cyclist spandex shorts please put a shirt on. You’re leaving nothing to the imagination. One day people will jump off a cliff or drown themselves in the nearest body of water after having your image burned into their memory. Just so your superficial self is made aware, the spandex only serves to increase your muffin top.

As bad as bicycle shorts look on runners, at least Matthew Fox keeps his shirt on.

2. “I run without a shirt because it’s too hot.” I guess you haven’t heard of Under Armor or other knockoff breathable clothing that repels your sweat. If you can’t afford fancy exercise clothes, at least wearing a shirt allows you to wipe the sweat off your face. Unless you’re wearing a shirt made out of super absorbent microfiber squeegee sponge material, a sweat-filled shirt won’t weigh you down that much nor keep the heat trapped next to your body. If you’re worried about the weight, then shouldn’t’ you also be running in track flats? Plus, nobody wants to know what your chest hair pattern is or that you wax it every week.

3. “I don’t want a farmer’s tan.” When I do walk/run and see these jokers, it’s after work and after 5 PM. It so happens that the sun is setting meaning its UV rays won’t exactly give you tanlines during your one-hour run. Plus, the routes I’ve seen shirtless runners on tend to have more treecover than open air. As the SO points out, if you’re running shirtless, at least do it after your chest has seen the light of day a few times since last year.

No matter how interesting your chest hair pattern is, going shirtless is for the beach.

4. “I like showing off my body.” In a way, all of us are conscious of our body image and will wear things (or not) to accentuate the good parts. I’ll grant you this, but running sans shirt just isn’t proper etiquette around the DC area. It's the unspoken code of DC running from Centennial Park in Howard County to the National Mall (think of the children!) to the Capital Crescent Trail. It’s only appropriate to run without a shirt when you’re along the (Santa Monica) beach. We’re running by presidential monuments for goodness sake!

How about I offer you, the shirtless runner, this compromise…wear a fitted breathable shirt instead. It lets everyone know your body shape and we aren’t forced to see your unsymmetrical chest hair and learn that you shave your armpits.

The Tooth Fairy Is Now The Tooth Devil

At 28, I have never had a cavity worth filling. In fact, my teeth have been quite healthy. I laugh when a family member needs work; always quick to remind them that I've never had a cavity and haven't been a regular flosser.

This changed yesterday morning.

I went to the dentist because I had been feeling a pain shoot from my lower right teeth to my ear canal when I'd chew. It didn't happen with every bite, but it happened enough to bother me. The dentist did some diagnostics and said to come back for the root canal (!!!) when the pain didn't let me sleep through the night.

The four stages of root canal pain and suffering.

Wait a second. I went from Mr. No Cavities to Mr. Root Canal just like that? Plus, he told me I actually have cavities worth filling! Stupid calcification and nighttime teeth grinding. My parents will be happy to know the dentist said my teeth are perfectly straight, meaning they got their money's worth from my teenage years of braces. However, that didn't ease my pain much.

The Cavity Creeps got to me!

I got all numbed up and had my cavities filled. I spent the rest of the day drinking from a straw, drooling when I spoke (like Kramer (sorry I'm on a Seinfeld reference binge)), and trying to remove food left next to my gums that I couldn't feel was there until I poked around with my finger. It was quite a scene.

By dinner I had the feeling back in my tongue, teeth, and gums. This allowed me to enjoy the residual pain from all of the pulling and prodding. My SO felt bad so she took me for some spectacular soft serve ice cream (proudly subsidized by my Cheapo Depot buy-one-get-one free coupon). I didn't enjoy it as much because all I could think about was how the ice cream's sugar would rot my teeth for the eventual root canal.

I hope the dentist plans a great vacation with the money I'll have to pay in a year when the pain becomes too much.

Good Samaritan For The Day

I got a late start heading into work today, thanks to a residual headache from last night, meaning I didn’t arrive in Bethesda until 9:15 this morning. As I exited Bethesda’s Auburn-Del Ray Avenue parking garage on the Auburn Avenue side, I saw a man running down the sidewalk after a 15-lb Blenheim (rich chestnut on pearly white background) Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.

Of course you'd find a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel in Bethesda.

Ever the superhero, knight in shining armor, protector of good, and righter of wrong, I channeled my inner Thundercat, G.I. Joe, Gobot, and T.U.R.T.L.E. power and decided that it would be I, who would save this dog from the busy streets of downtown Bethesda. To be honest, I won’t try stopping your dog if it’s over 65 pounds.

There comes a time in every man's life when he needs to ask himself, "what would the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles do?"

I kneeled with outstretched arms hoping the dog 1) would slow enough for me to grab it; 2) not be filled with rabies (I assumed any dog in Bethesda would surely be up on shots); 3) not run past me, thereby implying I would have to give chase and be more late for work; and 4) would also ask its owner for $100 to thank me for risking life and limb.

The scene of my daring, made-for-TV-movie lifesaving rescue.

The dog ran toward me and stopped to smell my shirt. At which point I picked it up and gave it to its owner who arrived 5 seconds later, panting from the run and fear of losing the dog. The dog had jumped out of the car at the Exxon station ½-block up at Old Georgetown Road while the owner was pumping gas. If the dog had to run any direction, at least it wasn’t toward the super busy and dangerous Old Georgetown Road. I wonder how far the dog would have gone if I hadn’t stopped it.

And when a dog saves a human from Bethesda roadways, the dog gets humiliated into wearing this.

This time around, there was no cash reward to speak of, but that’s really not why me and my fellow Crusaders of Justice get into this line of work. I did get a big thank you from the owner, a smile from a turning motorist, and some white dog hair on my shirt.

All in a day's work.