The many fours of people who read beehivehairdresser on a regular basis shouldn’t be surprised to find out that while at my incredibly boring day job I enjoy inventing new games and finding new ways to keep my spirits up. 

Well, I’ve come up with a new one, or rather, I’m finally ready to share the secret game that I’ve been playing for the past year and a half inside of my cube.

I call it, The Rubber Band Extravaganza Shooting Game!!!

This just so happens to be a game that can be played as either a 1st, 2nd or 3rd person shooter game, and it can be a multiple player game too.

The basics that you need to have a competitive Rubber Band Extravaganza Shooting Game!!! matchup are various push pins, a cork board of sorts, a good rubber band, two fingers, and a little bit of imagination.

Right now I’m working with a happy face layout, which I created myself, and can be downloaded as a neat little plugin for your consumption.

Basically, the goal of the game is to use two fingers to flick a rubber band and get the rubber band to catch onto one of the various push pins – as you can see from the above photo, I landed a shot squarely on the left eye. 

And since the game primarily takes place in the semi private quarters of your own cubicle you can easily wear bandannas to cover various part of your face from imaginary people shooting rubber bands back at you, as well as rather loudly lay in pain on the floor, writhing in pain from either an imaginary rubber band shot wound, or a leg cramp. 

Also, if you’re feeling brave, and don’t care about people trash talking you behind your back around the water cooler about how you live in a fantasy world revolving around cereal box characters, you might want to start inviting your fellow coworkers to play the game against you.  This version is more along the lines of role playing as a Secret Service agent against would be assassin, pitting one player against another. 

Or, you might want to get your favorite coworker to have a skills match, either by straight shot for shot skill, or a good old fashioned game of H-O-R-S-E – sans basketball.

Any way you play it only adds to the mystic that is….

THE RUBBER BAND EXTRAVAGANZA SHOOTING GAME!!!

For the past couple of years this painting by Reverend Jen Miller of her beloved chihuahua Rev Jen Jr wearing a cowboy hat has been the one and only adult item that I have purchased myself for my apartment. 

With everything else having been scored for free in one way or another – that is until I needed to buy a new vacuum cleaner.

I figured that I would go to Bed Bathand Beyond for this purchase since I’ve seen people testing out all sorts of vacuum cleaners there in the past, and since I knew that they had a fairly wide variety of vacuum cleaner options I figured that this was my best shot.

I had looked online to compare vacuums first before actually going to BBBY.  I found a nice one that was in my price range for about $150.00 and off I went for my second adult purchase for my place.

Once inside the wide open BBBY vacuum cleaner display area I asked the kind store associate for help in finding the one specific vacuum that I wanted to buy (I hadn’t seen it while looking by myself) and she informed me that this one in particular was currently out of stock.  Since my apartment was a mess and my old vacuum was of no more good use to me, I needed to make a decision on a different vacuum to buy – and I was going to need help.

The BBBY store associate was more than happy to help me, she very carefully explained all of the different features that the various vacuums I was interested in had, and during this time a manager of sorts walked up to her to inform her that there was a customer looking at the really expensive vacuums and that she should help them before me – as if my money was no good!  The kind BBBY store associate brushed the manager off, and continued to help me. 

After about ten more seconds of her helping me I realized that I couldn’t concentrate on any vacuums with the manager standing a few feet away staring at us awaiting the store associate to ditch me, so I let her go so that I wouldn’t feel eyes burning holes in me.  Plus I was the one who was going to have to make the decision of what vacuum I was going to buy anyway, so I braved up and began looking.

Every single vacuum that I looked at I felt as though I was looking at the lemon of all vacuums, because in reality, what do I know about vacuums other than they should clean my floors at the very least.

I spotted one slim red one with a removable hepafilter that was way under my price max ($75) and I just couldn’t let myself pick it up out of fear that an entire chorus of people would come in singing “You are a sucker, you are buying the lamest, and worst made vacuum in the store…”

And then after casually passing by the display of boxes about a dozen times to examine enough of the box I spotted Fruit Loops.

I figured, “Well, if it can pick up a bunch of dry Fruit Loops, it has to be good.”  And so I bought me a new vacuum based off the fact that it can suck up fruit loops on a hard tile floor.

When I got the vacuum back to home to my living room I was examining the box in even further detail, and that’s when I noticed that it’s the “#1 Best Cleaning Full Size Upright under 12 lbs!”

Well, I really got the top of the line on the cheap, I thought.  Then I realized that the reason why it’s the best under 12lbs because they are the only fools to build one under 12lbs, but hey, I’m the only one foolish enough to buy one under 12lbs. 

At least I’m a fool with clean floors!

Saturday morning was a rainy and cool one in my neighborhood.  It also found me on the express line of my supermarket, which just so happened to be filled with bunches of people who had their panties in tight bunches.

When I finally go to the checkout portion the cashier didn’t say what the price was exactly, but I saw that it was $13 and change, so I handed her a $20 bill.

“Sir, do you have ten cents?”  The cashier asked rather politely.

“Uhhh…no I don’t.”  I barely said as my throat was filled with the frog of the last remnants of a cold.

“Here, I have it.”  The young woman behind me in line told the cashier.

The cashier looked at the young woman holding out a dime with such a look of shock you would have thought the young woman had an arrow sticking through her head.

“Are you sure?”  The cashier asked incredulously with a cross between worry and shock on her face.

“Yeah, I am.”  The young woman said as she handed the cashier the dime, and the cashier looked at me worriedly as if I had to give an “A-OK” message via smoke signals or something of the like over the dime transfer.

“Thank you very much!”  I said graciously to the young woman who spotted me the dime.

“It’s only a dime?!?!?”  The young woman replied back in a slightly annoyed fashion.

The entire scene left me feeling quite unsure how I feel about people in this situation, part of me wanted to say that they’re nice, another part rude, and yet another part completely stupid. 

Meh, such is life.

Saturday night I was walking down the street and found me a ten dollar bill staring up at me smack dab in the middle of the sidewalk.

I casually bent down as I passed it, picked it up, put it in my pocket, smiled over the fact that I just scored a ten spot, and knew almost instantly that the bad yang was soon to follow this good yin. 

I’m currently patiently awaiting its arrival.

I’m sure you’re wondering what I am exactly waiting for to happen, and well, I’m not 100% sure, but I would wager that it’s one of the following three very plausible situations…

Crocs:  I just might be walking across a busy avenue when I spot a pair of bright neon colored crocs being wore inappropriately on a person coming in toward me…

when suddenly I fall through an open sewer drain and get bit on my head by a pair of 12 foot double headed crocodiles (that’s four heads) – killing me instantly!!!

Piano:  I might be walking briskly down the street while some piano movers are attempting to move a piano via a hoist 11 stories up…

when suddenly the piano breaks and land squarely on my head – killing me instantly!!!

Joe Namath:  This is the most plausible method of the bad yang to finally catch up with me.  I just might be strolling along the Upper West Side near where Live with Regis and Kelly is filmed…

when suddenly during the middle of a live taping of a touchdown pass from Joe Namath to Regis Philbin gets too much wind, veers left, and lands squarely on my nose – creating enough blunt force that my face implodes upon my brain – killing me instantly!!!

Or, I just might not have any bad luck over the whole thing…who knows…

So there’s a secret that the male gender has kept for generations among itself, and I am absolutely breaking the “I have two balls so we stick together” protocol that guys have here with regard to this secret.

Most guys have no idea where women pee from.

I know, I know, it’s shocking, but it is so true.  For the longest time I thought that I was the only one who didn’t quite know where it came from or rather out of women. 

I mean, I know that women sit down to pee into a toilet, and the general vicinity of where it comes out, but as for where the actual spot of it…I sure couldn’t point it out on a detailed map of the female crotch.

Where does it come from?

Then one night I was getting a ride home by my friend Ralph.  Now Ralph is in his 40s and asked the question of “This might sound silly, but might you happen to know where women pee from?  Like, specifically?”

Naturally we both laughed until tears rolled down our faces at the question, but then we sat there in the traffic wondering where it actually came out from.  We then had a long and drawn out discussion about how confusing the whole thing was, and that we both just sort of thought that women pee from somewhere near or around their vag. 

That’s about it, “somewhere near or around their vag” is the best possible conclusion that guys can figure out as being the source of the female pee stream, and Ralph and I aren’t alone in our lost and confused thoughts of the matter – almost all men are.  Specifially 99.9999999% of men are confused to this mystery.

If you don’t believe me go ask your husband, boyfriend, significant other, friend, or male coworker if they know specifically.  Chances are most of them aren’t go to have a better answer other than “pussy” or ” the vagina”. 

There, I said it.