My first blog. You're welcome.

Here is an example of the columns I wrote weekly for the weekly paper at Weber State. I was told once (by a lunatic) that I was funny, witty, and insightful. She might have meant inciteful, which isn't a real word, but it would have made more sense. Because, much like that word inciteful, my columns are all nonsense.
The column was called "Battle of the Sexists" and I wrote for the males and the managing editor wrote for the womenfolk. She was herself a woman.
Be warned. I wrote straight from the cuff of the horse's mouth or hip or whatever or wherever you shoot from when you tell it like it is. Or ain't.

Well, just read it and tell me what you think. The topic is Shopping.

Shopping Men don’t shop. There, that’s all that need be said. Just kidding. Really, what men do isn’t shopping, though. We search, compare, evaluate, test, and then we purchase. We don’t wake up one day with nothing do and decide the mall’s the best place to get a wicked deal on a pair of pumps, only to spend the next 48 hours buying shoes or talking to people about shoes. No, we use the good sense of our favorite sites to peruse the selections of stores online. We spend countless hours pouring over magazines and articles written on the item on our mind. We find side-by-side comparisons and consumer reviews. We seek out the knowledge of those who have bought before us and ferociously extract their opinion. With me, it’s cars. If I “shopped” for cars, I’d come home from work, look at my wife and say something like, “hey, how about I go pick up a treat at the local used car dealership?” Then I’d much-less-than-promptly return home with 32 automobiles and 16 SUVs. I’d scatter them about my closet and call up my guy friends (remember – hypothetical!) and go on and on about how there was this awesome sale and I couldn’t leave without getting all I could. I’d then look at my latest credit card statement and wonder how I’d gone over my limit again. That’s shopping. “Not shopping” is coming home from work or school, getting comfortable, and putting in some long hours, reading the latest articles from Car and Driver or Consumer Reports. Then I’d check the local papers and free postings on my favorite Web sites. After I found a promising prospect, I’d sleep soundly knowing I hadn’t blown my money yet. I’d wake up the next morning and let my mind rework all the information and reviews of the vehicle that may join my personal motor pool. That’s for something significant, a category most clothing does NOT fall under. When we guys need a shirt or a pair of shoes to replace our moon boots, we simply go to Point A, it being the nearest retailer of said item. We grab the nearest item to the door, quickly stride to the counter and pay, in cash, the fine woman at the counter what the item cost. Then we’d immediately return to the comfort of our home office/cave and get back to all those insightful evaluations of computer hardware, film equipment, treadmills, boxing gloves, car stereos, television sets, personal aura expungifiers, doo-hickeys, and didgeridoos.