One of the things I like about this blog (other than the fact that I think I'm really funny) is that it permits, nay demands, that I take myself less seriously than I usually do. Which in and of itself is something of a feat, since I don't take many things very seriously, least of all myself (Thinking about it now, I'm realizing that maybe taking myself less seriously than I normally would isn't such a good thing, since it brings me from laughing at myself a few times a day to my internal image of myself look not unlike Bello the Ringling Bros. clown). I do something silly, and unlike most people who just forget it right away, I take a note of it so I can write it down in the blog later that week.

What I mean to say is, the other day at the gym, I mistook the hairspray bottle for the deodorant bottle. Which wasn't an entirely bad thing, since I really like the way the hairspray at the gym smells (kind of like coconut). But my underarm hair was really stiff for the rest of the day, and chafed a little bit. And I kept having urges to drink Pina Coladas. Although honestly that happens independent of what I spray in my pits.

The gym locker room is a funny place. It's one of those few places that a guy can walk around totally nude and not feel funny about it. Well, it takes a while to get to that point I suppose. As far as I can tell, it takes 45 years before you stop feeling funny about it. Maybe the cut-off isn't a strictly temporal one, but the day you feel comfortable just wandering around the locker room without your towel on is the same day that your body has ceased to become a thing of interest to the opposite sex. At least, that's the case as far as I can tell. In fact, I seem to be the only individual in the gym who violates this unwritten rule.

Bathrooms in general are funny places for guys. Particularly urinals. I was chatting with a friend of mine the other day, who mentioned that he thinks the very idea of adjacent urinals goes against everything in which (a good proportion of) men believe. Mainly, that no other guy is supposed to be near our bits when they are exposed to the air. Put a bunch of guys on a hike and have them drink bottles of water, you'll find that they'll go to opposite ends of trails to take care of business. But for some reason, public bathrooms have been designed so that we are as close as humanly possible when peeing. The interesting thing about this is, of course, the system with which men deal with the 'Multiple Urinal - Multiple Users' problem. For those of you who aren't aware of this (I assume you are all women), it's an algorithmic ability with which men are imbued at birth, that allows us to instantly choose the single urinal out of an unbounded set which not only keeps us the maximum distance away from all current users but also (and this is the cool part) minimizes the chance that any subsequent urinal users will chose a position close to us. It's an incredible ability, since I believe the problem has been proven to be NP-complete (which, for those of you who aren't in the know, means 'really really really hard').

I do apologize for the bathroom-centric post, but it's just what I've been thinking about recently. Sam got some air freshener for the house, and I tried spraying some in the bathroom. It was so awesome. If you are going to have any number of heterosexual guys living together, usually the best you can hope for is that the bathroom smells neutrally of bathroom (worst case is just plain awful). But spray a little air freshener in there (Mountain Morning, I believe was the type) and it's a whole new world. After that, I have resolved to no longer make fun of girls who buy potpourri. In fact, that's even better than air freshener, since it's a 'set it and forget it' kind of technology. I liked the smell so much that I actually found myself just hanging out in the bathroom last night. Brushed my teeth for 15 minutes, periodically pressing the spray button. I think they actually call behavior like that 'huffing,' but damn society and it's semantic constraints.