I don’t think there is a bigger oxy-moron in the world than “reality TV-star.”  How many “real housewives” can we have?  My parents got divorced when I was thirteen.  I lived with my mother.  She was out of work for ten months and she did everything she could to save the house.  I never suffered and she eventually got back on her feet.  She taught herself drafting and eventually worked her way back into the credit field where she continues to work today.  That’s a REAL housewife.

I challenge these surgically enhanced bimbos to take off their Jimmy Choos and press their fake hooters into a sports bra and go outside and mow the lawn like my mother did.  Once these narcissistic floozies get on TV they actually believe they have talent.  Danielle Staub is one of those H20 heads that thought she could SING!  You must check out her performance HERE.

Don’t get me started on Teen Mom.  When I was in high school if ya got pregnant you went away for the summer.  If you broke the law then you went to reform school.  Double up on those two now and you’re a TV star.

We should have learned when Survivor gave us our first reality TV-star in Richard Hatch.  The guy was best known as “the naked fat guy.”   He won the contest, got a million bucks, didn’t pay taxes, and went to jail.  Too bad they didn’t put a camera in his cell.  Now THAT would be reality TV!!!

So the Royal Wedding is happening later this week.  Personally I’d rather be watching a yawning festival but the big news is Kate has decided to remove the word “obey” from the wedding vows.  SEE STORY HERE  Is this REALLY  big news?

Guys I don’t know about you, but I think it’s easier to train a pit bull in a sausage factory than get a woman to “obey” you.  I’d love to hear from a guy, (that was told by his wife for the fourth time in five minutes to mow the lawn), how he invoked the “obey” clause in his wedding vows.  I assume the exchange would probably go like this: 

 GUY:  “Sorry babe.  Not really feeling up to it right now while the game is on.  I would like another cold one and would ya mind turning the brats on the grill?  I don’t think I have to remind you of the obey clause in the wedding vows you agreed to.”

WOMAN:  (SFX)  BANG!!!!  (Nothing would be said in return because nothing would make the impact like the cast iron frying pan she would impale over your head).

Upon further review I believe it is us men that have subconsciously adopted the obey clause.  You wanna see fear in the eyes of a grown man?  All a woman has to do is this:   Come home early on a Saturday, find out your “honey-do” list is not complete, then text your man wanting to know where he is.  Every weekend I see at least four guys grab their iPhone, clutch their chest, and run out of the sports bar after receiving such a text.

So to the future King I can only offer this advice:  Make sure cable in the castle gets both the Oxygen and Lifetime channels.  You may wear the crown but she will always wear the pants.

I was reading a story this morning about an eighteen year-old senior that is not allowed to take his nineteen year-old girlfriend to the prom because she is too old.  Read story HERE. I think everyone has experienced “old guy at the prom” and chances are YOU remember his name.

Another constant is the “super hot chick that’s too cool to date anyone from the school.”  In my case she was dating the quarterback for the Cleveland Browns but he knew better than to come to the prom so my memory of “old guy at the prom” belongs to Rick Davis.

Rick had another title as well:  “Guy whose house you would go over just to get him to buy ya beer.”  We made many trips to Rick’s house and even played a few hands of gin rummy with his parents but the only motivation we had in making the stop was to get him to run up to the beverage store and buy us a case of Little Kings.

Rick was twenty-three years old but to a high school senior you may as well be on television endorsing reverse mortgages.  It’s funny how I don’t remember much from my high school prom but the vision of Rick Davis doing the funky chicken to the Human Leagues “Don’t You Want Me” is permanently emblazoned in my subconscious. 

 So this prom season I offer ya this piece of advice:  If you 1) are married, 2) have a college degree or 3) have more than five thousand dollars in your 401-K; stay home and let the kids have their fun.

 Everyone is talking about the six year old girl that received a full body pat down by the TSA in New Orleans.  See story HERE.  Watch disturbing video HERE.

Sorry, but I’m gonna have to come to the defense of the TSA here.  The agent was only doing her job based on the procedures that are already in place and approved by the TSA.  THAT’S THE PROBLEM!!

Don’t fault the worker for doing her job the problem lies with the morons that approved such procedures.  I hate to fly to begin with but I am willing to take my chances and assume a six-year-old is not hiding some C-4 in her Hello Kitty carry-on.

If two consenting adults did in public what the TSA is instructed to do to law-abiding citizens attempting to travel, they would be arrested and charged with lewd and lascivious behavior.  I remember my grandmother when she was seventy-five.  The only threat inside her brassiere was, after six kids, one of her boobs may fall out and knock over the drink cart.

There has to be a better solution than what is happening right now but don’t misplace your anger.  Focus on the cause and not the effect.  Go to the top.  Those responsible are the ones in need of a full body scan to see if they are in possession of ANY common sense whatsoever.

I was reading the facebook status of a friend of mine this morning:  “Exhausted and sore after yoga.”  I laughed.  Every time I see someone doing yoga they are just sitting there.  I can walk downtown and step over a half-dozen bodies doing the same thing.  They call that “passed out drunk.”  So either yoga leads to being homeless or I am missing something.

Next move was to YouTube to find a yoga video.  The one I selected a woman appeared on my screen telling me we would be doing a series of “breathing and stretching” exercises.  My first thought was : “Memo to self.  Never refer to it as ‘getting out of bed in the morning.’  You are doing YOGA!”

As I tried to mimic the poses and instructions of the limber lady on my computer screen, reality hit me harder than Chris Brown.  My heart rate increased, sweat was dripping down my forehead, and I was hoping I wouldn’t have a heart attack because they would find me in my Armour All boxers with my left foot above my head.  “We wonder why he watched all those David Carridine movies,” they would say.  (If ya don’t get the joke:  CLICK HERE).

I usually think I’m right but I don’t have a problem admitting when I am wrong.  I was DEAD wrong about Yoga.  It IS a workout and one not to be taken lightly.  I know that first hand as I’m too sore to reach my Ben-Gay.  When I’m able to walk without looking like I passed out at Richard Simmons’ house (visual joke), I’ll let ya know what I think about those sissies that think they’re working out if they’re “spinning.”