How My New Male Friends Help Me Set Up The Ultimate Accountability

group of guys
If these guys are doing that tandem skydiving acrobatic thing, they forgot their parachutes.

I needed more guy friends.

One of the bummers of turning forty is that almost all of my male friends are married. This is not a bummer for them, of course. And, damn it if they didn’t all marry well. And, once someone marries well, children are soon to follow. This is accompanied by a move to the suburbs where the excitement of city life is sacrificed for a larger home with actual grass. I’ve lived in the city for sixteen years and I’m one of the last holdouts. However, there’s no good argument to be made for a single guy moving out to the suburbs until he’s forced. The upside is that I live smack in the middle of a million fun city activities. The downside is that nobody else I know still does. So, I’m lonely. READ MORE

Children Aren’t Freaking Me Out as Much as They Used To

dj paris reading to child

The voice echoed from behind my right shoulder and I was surprised to hear my name.

“Uncle D.J. is going to read you a bedtime story. Go pick one out.”

I stopped and spun around. My friend Justin was walking his youngest son Jude to his bedroom. Not knowing much about four year olds, a bunch of questions raced through my head. How long do you have to read before a child falls asleep? Can’t they read themselves? I couldn’t recall a memory from my childhood where someone read to me. My earliest memories of life start at six years old, and I had been reading on my own for a few years at that point. My mother brags that I taught myself how to read at age four. And I guess now I’m bragging to you. Anyway, since I couldn’t recall a personal experience of being read to, what came to mind was Peter Faulk reading to that boy in The Princess Bride. And that movie was two hours long, for chrissakes. I can’t read aloud for that long. As a self-centered adult without children, if I spend more than ten minutes with one, I get nuts. READ MORE

How I Came to Own a Glorious, Glorious Bidet

Here is my bidet attachment. Why my shower has wooden planks in it is another mystery.

Years ago back when I had around seven Twitter followers I made the following joke.

You know what commercial you never see during late-night tv? A family owned urinal/bidet store offering 0% financing for three years. #fb

— ThoughtsFromParis (@tfpHumorBlog) April 2, 2010 READ MORE

R.I.P InThePowderRoom and Leslie Marinelli (she’s not dead, though)

The happy couple post-coitus.
in-the-powder-room-logo

Women terrified me until I was twenty-two.

Without hyperbole I had a full, blown-out phobia of the fairer sex. Also bees. I can remember in first grade there was a girl who I wanted to date, or whatever we called it back then. I knew that I wasn’t good looking enough, however. That horrible self-image lasted until (in college) my first girlfriend told me that I was handsome. And she was beautiful. With her validation I realized that all those years I had been lying to myself. It’s not like after that moment I walked around campus believing I was chiseled from stone. But I no longer thought of myself as ugly. All it took was one person’s compliment and my lifetime of thinking I was gross-looking went away. I’d love to tell you that I came to an acceptance of my attractiveness through intense self-exploration and maturity. Nope. It just took the prettiest girl I knew to tell me I was hot. Sometimes that’s all you need. READ MORE

Flying First Class is Not Awful (and other obvious observations)

When you're finished we'll take your half-chewed omelette and send it back to coach.
first class airline travel
When you’re finished we’ll take your half-chewed omelette and send it back to coach.

I’ve never once complained about flying coach.

Let me quickly qualify that before you label me an elitist asshole. I’ve only ever flown first class once, and that was because a boss upgraded my ticket for a short flight to Birmingham. But I’ve been flying since I was a kid, so I’ve shuffled past hundreds of first class passenger over the years. When I say I’ve never complained about sitting in steerage, what I mean is that I’m not one of those people who scowl at the fortunate souls in the first class cabin. I don’t assume they’re horrible people, or that they’re lucky. And while I’m not huge into status, I love the idea of being able to buy a first class ticket. To have the means to plunk down 3k on a flight to Newark if I was so inclined. In fact, when I walk by the first class passengers I often think, “I should work a little harder!” or, “Gotta save better!” READ MORE

Got Kicked out of a Church Parking Lot for Setting Off Fireworks

I had never bought fireworks before.

As a child fireworks were illegal in Illinois. If, in high school, you wanted to shoot bottle rockets at your friends while running around a golf course drunk at midnight, you needed to travel out of state to procure the armament. The statutes must have been repealed because this weekend I came across a tent on the way to my parent’s home chock full of China’s best. Google Maps was navigating me through a rural part of the state when I saw the fireworks stand. It was situated in a cornfield with a huge sign revealing that that tent had the “best prices guaranteed.” I almost didn’t stop, however. READ MORE

I Reviewed a Microscope for Broads at InThePowderRoom

nerds smiling in science class
You know this is a staged photo because nobody smiles in science class.

Science class was always difficult for me.

Throughout my schooling I struggled to earn a decent grade in science. As an adult looking back I realized that most of my education consisted of being taught facts that I attempted to memorize and then retrieve. My memory is poorer than my intelligence would suggest. I’m not a dumb guy, but I have a dumb memory. Not a great combination – smart and forgetful. Thank God the internet came to be in my lifetime. I no longer have to remember much of anything. I have immediate access to facts and am not penalized on my inability to recall items from my swiss cheese brain. READ MORE

I Built an Arcade and Named it Arcade Fire Because Puns Rule

dj paris firepit
Fire codes are for losers.

When I sold the condo, I let the new owners keep the fire pit.

It was too heavy to move to my girlfriend’s place. I had built it eleven years prior – the first time my hands had ever touched a saw. The base was a wooden box that I cut and nailed together. If you’ve never built a box there’s a bunch of complicated math you have to figure out. I bought slabs of marble to affix to the sides and built up row after row of broken slate around the gas fire kit. Inside the box was a propane tank. Okay, enough talk about the stupid fire pit. It’s boring. READ MORE

I Puked All Over Myself While Paddleboarding

Life is still kind of boring in the virtual realm. But at least I look cool while bored.

Throwing up while sober is more unpleasant than while drunk.

I’ve vomited maybe three times in the past dozen years, all from a flu or stomach ache. But back when I was drinking, puking after a binge was expected (and often welcomed). I would feel so shitty after a night of double whiskey sours that the next morning heaving out my insides would provide a modicum of relief. Sometimes even a small jolt of endorphins. It’s like a runner’s high, but without the running and nipple tape. But barfing sober, it just sucks from the coming attractions until the end credits. READ MORE