Finger. Lickin. Great.

So you just drove all night, from Canada to Kentucky, in November.

Its raining.  Its cold outside.  Damn right you're having the chicken, and there is only one place you're gonna have it.   

The original.  The Parkette.  

Established in 1951, this iconic drive in was the original "kentucky fried chicken", and while it might have been the inspiration for the colonel, when it comes to chicken, this place is the god damned chairman of the joint chiefs.

When you arrive at the Parkette,

you've got two options, you can old school it and order right from your parking space (and they will serve you in the car), or you can head inside and grab a booth.  As I mentioned, I had just driven 1000 kilometres to get there, so I was ready to stretch my legs.  As it happened, a booth was ready, and believe me, so was I.

 There is a surprising array of selection on the menu.  Everything from shrimp to pulled pork sandwiches, but who are they kidding?  I didn't come here for a poor boy (not this time).

Under different circumstances, I might be uncomfortable if a charming black man handed me something and said "taste that, you gonna love how thick it is", but when Jimmy brought me my chocolate shake, I had to admit, he was right.  

Shake in hand, I knew what I wanted to eat.  There was no need to waste time.  I ordered the half chicken dinner, all dark (white meat is for suckers).  

The anticipation was palpable, but it was soon abated.  Jimmy, hooked me up.  When my meal arrived, I got exactly what I expected.  This wasn't fine dining.  The plastic basket told me that, but I knew it was going to be incredible none the less.  I just wasn't prepared for how incredible.

Yeah it's greasy.  Yes it's salty.  But who cares???  You don't come here for kale and tofu.

One bite and you are over the edge.  I don't care who you are, your mouth is simply not ready for what the Parkette is going to do to you.  Choosing a thigh (I've always been a leg man), I sink my teeth into the most tender juicy crispy mouthwatering rendition of a 

poultry induced mouthgasm that I have ever tasted, including my own (and trust me I make some pretty damn fine chicken myself.  but not like this.  Never, like thisss)

I am beyond my happy place.  I literally have to fight the urge to drag my meal into a nearby corner and growl, with fangs exposed, at the potential rivals who will undoubtedly be encircling me at any moment to try and take whats mine.  

Fortunately, it doesn't happen.  The wolves do not attack.  Apparently they have all got their own little baskets full of happiness, and they too are all consumed in devouring each morsel.  So the next time you are in Kentucky (or within 500 miles in any direction), you know what you've gotta do.  And if it happens to be in the springtime, I've heard they also have a horse race or something that happens, so you might wanna check that out too.

Avenge Cecil's death!

Those of you who have read my stuff, know that my work is usually more lighthearted, but this week, in light of what has happened, I have decided to try and incite some revenge for poor Cecil.

Ironically, I was actually half way through writing a piece about lions.  As we entered the time of the Leo on the zodiac, I thought it would be funny to poke fun at the real nature of the king of the jungle. I had put together several amusing observations about how the male lion basically just lies around and lets his harem of females do everything, and I was going to speculate on how he got so lucky to have this seemingly wonderful arrangement?  The answer, as best as my research could determine, was that he is the ultimate bad boy super stud.  Male lions not only (literally) fight off all rivals, but once they have the top spot, they will mate with all the females, 6 times an hour, for days and days on end.  In short, he lets them know who's boss, and they like it.  Sounds like a pretty good deal huh?  And it probably is, unless some ASSHOLE two legged chicken shit (walter palmer) with his armed posse of dirtbags, lure's you away from your protected sanctuary just so he can shoot you with a crossbow (and then a gun 40 hours later because he wasn't even skillful enough to kill you the first time).

So, I'm not going to write the humorous piece.  That ship has sailed.  It was funny but its in my trash now.  Now, all I want is REVENGE.

Let's start with the American Dental Association.  The ADA is very proud of its Code of Conduct (see http://www.ada.org/en/about-the-ada/principles-of-ethics-code-of-professional-conduct/ ) in which it states that every member of the ADA will "always do good".    Contact the ADA here:

http://www.ada.org/en/about-the-ada/contact/

to let them know what you think about Walter Palmer and whether it was "good" enough.

I am sure that if enough people take the time to express their opinions, the ADA will have no choice but to take action against mr palmer.  

But lets not stop there.  Let's do the same for the Dental Association for the great state of Minnesota.  I'm sure with enough feedback they will also decide that they do not need a dentist like walter palmer.

And while we are at it, lets tell Minnesota Governor Mark Dayton what we think of mr palmer.  With enough encouragement and a few million emails, I'm sure Mr. Dayton would be happy to assign a few of his best civil servants to investigate every possible way to ensure that mr palmer is driven out of the state, out of dentistry, and into the icy oblivion that he deserves.

Its a snowball.  Keep it rolling people.  Let's vow not to stop writing until something is done about this man and what he has done.  For Cecil, and for anyone else who might try the same thing in the future.

RIP Cecil.

Thank you everyone.  Now get writing!

Michael Shawn Mackay 

A girl never forgets her first SHOEGASM

A girl never forgets her first.  She was completely on the edge as she slid open the box.  Visual stimulators were the first to kick in.  As they came into focus, she began to feel weak in the knees, and a little hot under the collar.  Then, touching them for the first time, other senses collided.  Soft, supple, sensual.  They even had that new shoe smell.  Better still, they had that expensive new shoe smell.

Teased and tormented by fashion and social media alike, until now, she had only been able to look.  She had talked to them through the front window at Barney's, and stalked them online, but they still seemed forever just out of reach.  She knew in her heart that they were meant to be together, but when?  How?  She knew how good it would be.  She had dreamt about it.  It would be mind blowing, toe curling, spine wriggling ecstasy.  A full blown SHOEGASM, and her desire only fuelled her resolve.  Boys can be nice too, but bitch please, we are talking about shoes here.  

For most women, getting all the way there has never been easy.  It can take years of practice, and even then, everything has to be jusssst right.

One time, she thought she was going to have one in college, but was disappointed as she unwrapped the deceptive parcel only to reveal a discount brand shoebox.

There really should be a rule against that?  Cheap shoes really should come in some other form of packaging, its just cruel.

Then in her twenties, when she finally had a real job, she splurged, and gave herself a shoegasm and it was every bit as good as she had imagined.   After that, it became an obsession, and she has been getting more, every chance she gets.

Until now, she has only found two ways to have one.

If they are lucky, some girls find a prince charming for their inner cinderella .   If he is considerate enough, generous enough, and knows where to shop, he really could make her shoe dreams come true.   But that seems to be the needle in a haystack, and alas,  for most girls, the only reliable way to shoegasm seems to be giving them to yourself.

Let's face it.  Real life isn't like the movies.

Ryan Gosling isn't loitering in the Jimmy Choo section at Bergdorf's with his platinum card.  Nope. Sadly, if you want to go pro that route, you are more likely going to have to settle for someone a little less, charming and thats just sad. 

It shouldn't have to be that way, and now, it isn't!

Now there is a third way!

Introducing Tagsnob.com where you can play to win all the shoes, bags, trips and other luxury items you have been dreaming about.

Tagsnob, the other, other, way to get them.

Tape is NOT an outfit

You've probably seen it.  For the past couple years, the world wide web has been flooded with them.  From Burbank to Belarus, aspiring models are clambering to strike their best zoolander poses adorned in little more than electrical tape.

I know that tape has long been part of the female wardrobe, but I was pretty sure that until now it was never in the starring role (or should i say roll?).  It was always, more or less, behind the scenes, not on your behind.

How did it this get started?  It probably went down something like this:  Some rocket scientist (unemployed landscaper) met some girl online and told her he was a photographer.  He borrowed a camera and set up a photoshoot.  With his limited experience, he hadn't thought ahead about any styling options, so when she asked what was today's wardrobe going to be?  He looked around his studio (parents garage) and the best he could come up with was a trusty roll of Temflex Nylon 1700.

Gradually (25 minutes later), thanks to the miracle of social media, other girls saw these first shots and the trend began.  Other duct tape daVinci's took up the challenge and dedicated themselves to the craft.  What a fine upstanding group of young men they must be.  Surely these are the sort of guys you want your daughter to meet?  Look at these guys, they are hard at work, literally toiling over her every nook and cranny.  I wonder what happens when they have artistic differences?  "Bro, I'm not happy with what you've done on her inner left ass cheek, its just not working for me."  When I was in school, I don't recall "dude who puts hockey tape on naked girls" being part of the list of options on career day?  If it were, I think there would have been more than a few takers.

Or what if she needs to pee?  That must be an adventure.  If girls are now completely ok with wearing electrical tape, what could be next?  Bubble wrap?  Butterscotch pudding?  "Hey you're beautiful, I can't wait to cover you with Aluminum siding!  But first, hold still, I need to rub superglue all over your hoohaw.  It's ok baby, trust me, I'm an artist."

What is the end game here?  I mean, for the girl (I'm pretty sure we can all guess the end game for the "artist").  Is she going to become an electrical tape supermodel?  Land the cover of the home depot catalogue? or?  what? get discovered?  By who?  3M?  In contrast, unless it has something to do with a sports injury, or a halloween costume, men don't wear tape.  Ever.  If some girl tried to come near my balls with sticky tape, she would quickly find herself on a list ofthose girls (the ones I avoid).

As laughable as this entire phenomenon seems, rest easy.  Like all trends, it can't last forever.  In the meantime, karma wins the day.  I would love to see the look on her face after a night of partying in the club when she finally realizes that now she has to pull all that tape off.  Ouch.  But hey, I'm sure it was worth it.  Riiiiiight.

Things Men Don't Understand

I hear it all the time.  Men just don't understand.

You know what?  You're right.  There are some things we just can't grasp.  For example, how a handbag can cost as much as a Ferrari?

 Say hello to the 458 Spider.  It is everything you want a Ferrari to be.  It's sleek, luxurious, fast, and starting at $258,000 it's a bargain, compared to the CHANEL 'Diamond Forever' Flap Bag. (which lists at $262,000)

The Ferrari has a race tuned 562 hp V8 engine, a dual clutch gearbox, and an interior designed by Formula 1 champion Michael Schumacher.  The bag... has a zipper!

Why is Crocodile always so expensive anyway?  Here's a thought, why don't you go try to catch one and then let me know if you still don't understand.  And pure white ones?  Dude, like you hardly everrr see those anymore (so naturally, we should make them into handbags!) 

The 458 Spider is painstakingly hand built from thousands of cutting edge components at Ferrari's state of the art factory in Maranello, Italy.  The bag? well, its soft and shiny.  

You could argue that the CHANEL has a certain cache.  Call it the bling factor.  The car?  Pfft, its just a Ferrari, who doesn't have one of those?

Don't get me wrong, it's a beautiful bag.  Stunning actually.  But seriously?  More than a Ferrari?  How?  Why?

Oh, right, I'm a guy, I just don't understand.  The real problem, for most of us, is that both of these might be slightly out of reach, financially speaking.

At least, they were until now.

Introducing tagsnob.com … a new website where you can play games, and win luxury items like bags, shoes, and trips.  

Yup.  I just said that.  Time to start winning the stuff you really want.  We know that some of your other favourite games are fun too, but let's face it, you can't even eat the rainbow coloured digital candy you won last night, and it is probably safe to say it is never going to make your gfs jealous.

The good people at tagsnob.com asked me to think of something clever to say for their launch.  Michael, they said, what should we do to get your readers attention?  For starters, I said, how about putting these two words together:

FREE LOUBS

And guess what?  They agreed!

Stay tuned for more info, or go to www.tagsnob.com (right now) to pre register for a chance to win our first free pair of Loubs.  Let's get this party started. 

If Ken can't even keep Barbie, what chance do the rest of us have?

Many of you have been asking me to share the first page of Boys are Stupid.  Sure, why not.

I wanted to start the book off by talking about a couple that everyone knows, and tried to poke a bit of fun at the problems that many of us face, from the point of view of the man, of course.  So here it is….with a few pictures added….hope you enjoy!

There have been many iconic couples.

Perhaps none more universally recognized than Ken and Barbie.  Although they lived in the spotlight, away from prying eyes, I’m certain they were faced with many of the same problems as the rest of us.  

We all know Barbie as a trendsetter, and like most beautiful women, she must have certain expectations.  Ken always did his best, but I’m sure it was difficult to keep a girl like Barbie happy when he had no career, and no penis.

Over the years, he has been a policeman, a fireman, a pilot.  He’s tried his hand as a scuba instructor, a roller skater, even a cross-country skier, but poor Ken never seemed to be able to stick with any one thing for very long. 

Barbie was getting tired of waiting for him to get his shit together.  She wasn’t happy, and when a girl isn’t happy, she will always speak to her friends before she speaks to you.

She probably discussed it over hazelnut macchiato with her best friends Midge and Stacey.  They almost certainly agreed that she was simply outgrowing him.  At this stage in her life, she deserved CEO Ken, not part time lifeguard Ken. 

There was only one thing left to do. 

Barbie let him take her for lunch, at that trendy new little place that everyone was raving about, and she broke it off.  It was really sad, but the lobster spoons were excellent.

It didn’t matter that it was only two days before valentines, or that he had been there for her through thick and thin for 43 years.  She said it wasn’t him, and that she just needed to be on her own, for a while.  Ken took it like a man, and they parted as friends.

A few days later, Barbie announced to the world that she was now with a hunky Australian surfer, named Blaine.

Surely Ken must have felt betrayed.  It just didn’t make any sense.  If his career wasn’t good enough, why would Barbie leave him for a surfer?  I’m sure he was heartbroken, but he would have to accept the truth.  She wasn’t coming back.  Barbie had upgraded, and women rarely come back from the dreaded upgrade.

In 2004, when I heard about all this, I remember thinking, if Ken can’t even keep Barbie, what chance do the rest of us have?

taken from Boys are Stupid

*I need to add a footnote.  Since I wrote that, Barbie changed her mind and officially decided to take Ken back!  Stay tuned for more….

Large hatted Selfridge bitches (and other fashion quandaries)

Have you ever shopped at Selfridges?  When in London, the stroll down Oxford street is a must.  I usually begin at speakers corner and watch the freak show for a bit, then head down the street to see what I can find in London’s famous retail district.  I look everywhere, but more often than not, the only place I spend much money, is at Selfridges.

So when I found out that Jeremy Piven was starring in a made for British television series about the American who founded the store, naturally I binge watched all 3 seasons.  Set in the early 20^th century, one of the things that jumps out are the fashions of the day, in particular, the hats.

Everywhere you look there are women in elaborate and very expensive looking hats.  Obviously, hats were the lust-have fashion accessory of the period, and that made me wonder, did women back then give each other cut eye the way they do now?

When lady Somethingham arrived at the soiree with yet another new hat from Paris, did the other women endlessly eyefuck her hat the way I see girls do today over shoes and bags? 

Would lady Jealousbitch and lady Talksalot give each other that same sideways look they would today?  You know the look, the one that says who did she sleep with to get that?

Was a floofy hat with extra large feathers the equivalent of a Chanel bag or a pair of Blahniks?

Don't get me wrong, I have always been a firm believer that smart men give epic gifts, but was that the biggest move they had back in the day?  Hi there, you're beautiful, can I buy you a hat? 

Sadly (for the Milliners), hats have not survived the test of time.  Now bags and shoes rule the day, but when did they become the only fashion items that mattered?  I thought true fashionistas were into all fashion?  Lately I keep seeing girls showcasing $5000 worth of bags and shoes along with a $14 outfit from H&M.  It’s very confusing.

And while we are on the topic of shoes and bags, what about this whole spikey trend?  I keep seeing the shoes, bras and even bags with spikes all over them.  They are pretty hot, but I wonder if girls know the origins of the style?  Any dog breeder can tell you, it comes from breeding larger more aggressive breeds of dogs.  They put spiked collars on the necks of the dogs to prevent them from biting each other (because that is where dogs bite when they go for the kill).  Are we to deduce from the spikey fashion trend that girls fear their new shoes are so hot that other girls will be so jealous that it will lead them to literally lunge at your feet with fangs drawn?

For sure I could see that a boy might, for example, lose control at the site of the spikey bra but alas, I don't think that this inexcusable behaviour would have very much to do with his love for fashion.

The real question remains, would a girl literally gnaw your arm off at the shoulder just to get at a handbag?   Ok, sure, why not.  Nothing would surprise me anymore when it comes to the ladies with their Loubs and Berkins.

You probably don’t recognize her, but I know you want her bag

Who is she?

You probably don’t know, but after reading this, I think you will agree you probably should.  You really, really, should.

Her name is Jane.  

Jane was born in London.  Apart from the obvious (that she is beautiful) she has had success as both an actress (in films like Agatha Christie’s Death on the Nile) and as a singer (she won female artist of the year in the Victoires de la Musique which are basically France’s version of the Grammys).

Still don’t recognize her yet?  Don’t worry.  This next bit will probably do the trick.

In 1980 she was on a flight from Paris to London.  You know how it goes, overcrowded flight (even in first class) and while you are stuffing your cheap straw weekend bag into the overhead compartment, one thing leads to another, and the contents come bursting out, all over the lap of the well dressed gentleman in the seat next to yours.

OOPS.

It wasn't even intentional, she swears, but on this particular occasion, perhaps it was meant to be?  Perhaps it was fate?  Ok now I know you’re asking why who was he?  Did they fall in love?  Get married?  Nope.  Better.

After gathering her things and apologizing profusely, as the story goes, Jane spent the duration of the short flight explaining how she wished she could find a better quality leather weekend bag, so that this sort of thing wouldn’t happen.

The stylish stranger, was none other than Jean-Louis Dumas, and he just happened to be the CEO of a little company called HERMES.

That historic flight, was in 1980.  

After listening intently, he returned to his offices, and then designed, and named a bag after her.  Jean-Louis was obviously a man of great talent, because he absolutely got it right.  

The bag he created became an instant classic.  I think you will agree, after that, her weekend bag problems, were over.

 

Here she is today.  Still beautiful.  I wonder how many of her own bags she has?

Her name?  Jane Birkin, of course.  She is living proof that some times the clutsy girls have all the luck.

The Right Guys are attracted to the Right Things. Trust me.

So many of my female friends ask me the same thing “why do I attract all the wrong guys?”

In an era when everyone seems to be obsessed with how they look, I think maybe we have lost touch with the importance of what we do….and I’m not talking about your job.  As long as you don’t do something self destructive, you could be anything from a barista to the chairman of Microsoft and I’m pretty certain it wouldn’t alter the opinion of any guy worth his salt.  I’m talking about what you do with your time.

There are certain hobbies that are just damn sexy as hell.  It can’t be a complete surprise to hear this.  Most girls have their own list of things they find attractive in a guy, we all know the stereotypes, Athlete, Rock Star, Actor, etc…..but what are the equivalent pastimes from a man’s point of view?

I can’t speak for every guy, but for me, there are three.  If she rides a motorcycle, surfs, or plays golf, I’m in big trouble.  Proficiency at any one of those activities instantly adds 5 points on a scale from 1 to 10.  Ride your motorcycle to the golf course on your way home from surfing?  You are already a 15 out of 10 in my books.  Plus it just makes you more interesting.  Straight up.

Don’t believe me?

Go to youtube and search for girl riding a motorcycle.  See if you can find anything that doesn’t have tens, if not hundreds of thousands of views.

I knew two girls who were best friends.  One of them wanted to buy a motorcycle, the other wanted to get her boobs done.  They both worked and saved for nearly a year, and they both got what they wanted at about the same time.  A few months later when I ran into them and asked how it was going, the girl with the bike said “amazing” and the girl with the boobs said “I’m pissed”.  Then she explained that her friend with the bike was getting “way more attention” than she was.  Now she wanted a bike too!  I can’t argue with that.  There are few things in this world hotter than a cool girl, getting off a cool bike, and doing the hair shake out thing as she removes her helmet.  Sorry, but a bit of cleavage can’t compete with that.  You know what I’m talking about.  

Plus in golf you have the fashion.  Let's face it, most ladies golf outfits are beyond cute,  and in surfing you are wearing a swimsuit.  Is it any wonder these particular hobbies have us drooling?  Not to mention that all three are perfect for travelling, which I have still never met a girl who didn't name that among her list of things she likes to do.

Last January, when Miss Canada, Chanel Beckenlehner stepped out of the crowd and crushed a drive at Doral during the Miss Universe pageant (pictured left), the looks on the faces of all the men (including Donald Trump) tells you everything you need to know.  It also got more media coverage than the actual crowing of the winner.  I can't add much to that, but maybe keep it in mind.  Spend a bit less time in front of the mirror, and a bit more time out there doing things that you love.  You will be happier, healthier, and that ALWAYS makes ANYONE more attractive.