I plead the fif! I plead the fif! FIVE! 1,2,3,4, fiiiif!

The past two days of my life have been some sort of weird Twilight Zone episode, all the while reinforcing the idea that my friends are crazy and that Charlie Sheen could not even hang with us (or he totally could given his millions of dollars, coke habit, hooker seducing, alcoholic ways). Anywho, Wednesday night karaoke somehow turned into Brian inviting people to the after hours hotspot known in popular circles as 742 S. Lombard (or my house) and said people staying until 6am or later. Which is insane for a freaking Wednesday night. Needless to say I was a tad late for work. Then last night, the normal BBQ was going on, it was low key (although the amount of beer in the house was not, as I had purchased 18, Brian showed up with another 60, and then Logan's friends showed up with yet another 60) and then Paul showed up out of nowhere and next thing I know we are back at the bar. Once again, people return from the bar with us and this is where the shit gets Twilight Zone-esque. I went to bed at a reasonable hour, like 4am, but when I awoke at 7:30, I find Brian asleep on the couch (the second night in a row he slept at the house, which is bizarre when you consider he lives four blocks away), Paul on the floor, and Trevor talking to a girl in the front yard. How is this even possible? As Dave Prak eloquently put it, "It sounds like you are living in some sort of cross between the house in Animal House and the one in Old School." Craziness. I am half surprised Bryce didn't jump out of the bushes this morning and reveal he had been doing top secret shots of Patron in said location all evening and that "they were after him", whatever the hell that means.

On my air travel adventure last week, I had the fine opportunity to peruse one of my favorite aviation magazines, Sky Mall. (Motto: "Companies Had the Misguided Notion to Manufacture this Crap, and We are Going to Sell It To You, So Have an Airline Cocktail and Ponder What You Really Want Out of Life, Like a Miniature Statue of 8th President, Martin Van Buren") If you have never perused this publication, it is a must and I always try and imagine who they are trying to target with what products. The magazine literally has just about every useless trinket or gadget one could imagine, some stuff so useless, I wonder if the higher altitudes of flying on a plane make people believe that they actually do need their own cotton candy machine. I must admit, I have purchased something from Sky Mall, and I do always see things in there that get me inappropriately pumped up, like a wall sized Crossword Puzzle. On land, this would not fire me up, but something about being at 37,000 feet in cramped quarters with someone trying to recline their seat into my already severely lacking in space wedged in legs, while I sit profusely sweating because the one cute girl on the flight had to sit next to me and I inadvertently offended her with my coarse language two minutes into the flight, makes me live for this shit. Well...only some of it, because other products have specific target buyers, and I am just not one of them. For instance:

Ahhh, yes the classic M&M club head covers. Nothing says "I'm a zany corporate middle management type with two kinds of diabetes and an inadequate sense of humor that makes me think that these club head covers are hilarious" like some fine colorful candy inspired club head covers.
Target Market: Males aged 50-63 with chocolate addiction issues and lame ass senses of humor







Who out there, when reading The Da Vinci Code, was not like, "Shit homes, I need to get my own cryptex! I have something so secretive that I need to hide it in a device I did not previously know even existed! " Just as I thought, slow witted people from the red states who will buy this shit and then store food stamps in it.
Target Market: People who, if not named Bubba, know someone named Bubba. You know a guy like this, and he plays the seek and find on the cereal box. And does so very seriously.



Eureka! And to think my tropical hut in my yard previously lacked a roof! This tropical thatch look will complete it perfectly! Don't mind the fact that my yard is very small and lacking any tropical flavor, I need this! (answer: no you fucking don't)
Target Market: People with way too much money who for some reason desire a thatched locale in their yard.









Ask Carl Winslow, last week's popular column, actually prompted some questions from loyal reader, Sarah P. So, I fired them off to Carl and here are his responses:

Sarah wrote:
"dear officer winslow,
why are you sooo dang cool? also, what kind of shampoo do you use? and what is your favorite kind of doughnut?"

Cool is not a river in Egypt, Sarah! My wife Harriet and Grandma Winslow keep me grounded. I use Neutrogena T-Gel Shampoo as long as that wacky Steve isn't doing experiments where my hair might fall out! I love the long john doughnut. Classic, simple, delicious. Don't tell my wife though!

Random tidbit from my youth that might explain something:
Last week my Mom shared this fine tale with my older sister Eileen and myself. Evidently when I was very young, a friend of the family was watching Eileen and I while my parents were out. I was speaking random jibberish, the friend of the family was trying to understand me, and when she asked Eileen what I was saying, Eileen calmly replied "He's speaking Spanish" and went back to watching TV. I guess when my Mom was telling it the story was funnier. Oh well. Tough balls.