Sometimes I am beset by strange and irrational fears. For example, I am currently terrified of getting my hair cut.

Here's why.

I generally go in for a trim every two or three months, and during the interim my hair fuzzes out like a white man's afro. Well, except that it isn't curly. Anyway, the point is that my hair gets really thick and fluffy, but, when I make it to the barber shop, I get that shit shaved down to a crew cut, stubble on the sides and slightly longer stubble on top.

Now, to achieve this effect, the woman doing the cutting (and it's always a woman, because that's just the kind of crotch I want hovering in my face for 15 minutes) has to use a trimmer on one setting on the sides and a slightly higher setting on top. This leads to a slight gap of time between settings, during which my hair looks like a fat, fuzzy pancake on top of my head.

Here's where the fear comes in.

What if something were to happen to interrupt the hair cut at this stage in the pro ... Read more ...

I was born in the Age of Aquarius, but I missed the Summer of Love by one year.

On Saturday mornings I watched "Super Friends" (before and after the introduction of the Wonder Twins), "Zoom," "The Electric Company" and all those acid-inpsired shows by Sid and Marty Krofft That explains a lot, right?

I remember the creation of HBO, and the monstrous antennas  on  everybody's roof tops that preceded the advent of cable.

The Iran hostage situation was the first big news story I actually followed, but I also remember watching live when Nixon flew away on that helicopter to escape impeachment.

I remember Gerald, Jimmy, Ronny, George I, Bad Billy C and W, much as I would like to forget that last one.

I also remember reading an article in "Popular Science" when I was about 11 or 12 on predictions of a wonderful, futuristic gadget they called a "cell phone." VCRs cost more than $1,000 and required a forklift to carry. So did the guide to operating them.

Sui ... Read more ...

I am not one to promote racial stereotypes, so I'll preface this story by saying I do not intend to imply that all Asian men have little dicks. It's not like I've gone around measuring Asian cock, so, for all I know, they're all sporting trouser pythons. Anyway, it's not like I'm hung like a mule, though I've noticed some jealous stares from Chihuahuas when I'm pissing in public at my local park.
That being said, during my time in Japan, I did find the local condom brands to be a bit, shall we say, snug. And I wasn't the only one. In fact, a friend of mine brought a big bag of Trojans and Durex back from a trip home to Wisconsin, and he was kind enough to leave the unused leftovers with me when he left for good two or three months later.
However, the stash was almost depleted by the time my then girlfriend, the current Mrs. Louis, and I decided to take a trip to Bali. The good news, however, was that Mrs. Louis' guidebook for Bali mentioned that the Hard Rock Café store in Kuta, Bali's mos ... Read more ...

Thailand was a tough trip, but it would have been a lot harder if it weren’t for the Germans.
Well, let me back up. It was December 1998, and I had been living in Japan, teaching English in a town near Tokyo, for about six months. Winter vacation came around, and I decided to take a solo journey to Thailand, mostly because it was cheap, and it had been highly recommended by friends.
The whole adventure got off to a shaky start, though, when I got on the wrong train on the way to Narita Airport and lost about 30 minutes getting back on track (it’s a pun!). That was the first of many problems on this alleged “vacation.”
Now, the night before I left, one of the other teachers, and English bloke named Karl who had been in country for two years, gave me some advise. “Check out the shows, mate, but don’t touch the girls,” he said. “That whole place is infected.”
Well, at least I didn’t catch The Virus, but I really should have stuck ... Read more ...