I’m straight-up sick of the ZZ Top beard. While a healthy beard can be pretty sexy when pulled off correctly (see Ryan Gosling in The Notebook or Marisa’s man candy), most dudes with excessive facial hair end up looking well…like a terrorist or that fire-and-brimstone patriarch of Duck Dynasty. A caveman beard is overplayed, not aesthetically pleasing, and the only kind of statement it makes at this point is that you probably enjoy telling people you play the mandolin and pay way too much for shitty coffee.
Not to mention, something about an navel-length beard is inherently creepy. Pair that with shifty eyes or any kind of atypical behavior, and you can’t really blame the public for some sort of moral panic. Is it right? Of course not, you’re a Lost Ogle reader and therefore know the derplahoman dangers of jumping to conclusions based on physical appearance.
So can we really blame the locksmith for this sort of a mix-up? From New on 6:
Dig up your spiffiest lederhosen gang, because the alleged best Oktoberfest in the country is back in Tulsa this weekend!
If you’ve never hiked across the river for this hot mess of an occasion, this is a great year to start. The weather’s projected to be perfect, our home state’s football games are early-ish on Saturday, and I for one can never think of a sound reason to pass up a bratwurst washed down with a cold dunkel.
I’m a veteran of this high holy holiday…but in case you aren’t, I’ve listed out a few need-to-know tips to maximize your utility for the weekend. Here’s goes.
You see that photo above? That was me and my friends being idiot college kids at OU/Texas seven years ago. I was but a wee freshman, and this was my first trip to the Red River Rivalry free from the watchful eye of attending with my parents. Notice how we’re all posing for this drunken picture in a shower at the Sheraton hotel, with our solo cups and silly hand signs and crimson attire. I can pretty much guarantee Soulja Boy or Eli Young was playing in the background from an iPod playlist or mixed CD that someone made special for this very occasion.
Things have changed a lot since then. Nowadays, my idea of a big night usually means take-out from P.F. Changs and an OnDemand movie. No one warned me about the rapid rate you age in the years between 23 and 25. While I hung tough my first post-grad year and again experienced the OU/Texas I had come to love, two years after I felt out-of-place and adrift on McKinney Street, and last year I cut my losses and
cried into my chili watched the game with friends in my backyard.
I thought it’d be both fun and depressing to do a little retrospective analysis and map out what my OU/Texas weekend looked like in college vs. what is probably going to go down this weekend. Here goes.
Friday, 10:00 am
Then: Roll over in bed and fumble around for a glass of water and some Advil. Damnit, why did I drink that extra LIT last night at Suger’s?
Now: Spreadsheet. I’m spreadsheeting. Hehe, spreadsheet–wonder if Cosmopolitan has created a position called “The Spreadsheet” yet.
Friday, 10:07 am
Then: Spring out of bed and get dressed. God, I feel wonderful! If I hurry up and eat lunch, I’ll have enough time to run 3-4 miles, shower, and pack before we leave for Dallas!
Now: Nothing interesting on Cosmo’s website. Wonder if it’s someone’s birthday today? Mosey to the breakroom in hopes of finding a cookie cake.
Then: Pick up friends then head to Classic’s. Southbound roadtrips should always start with a Sprittle or an Eskimo Frosty.
Now: Spreadsheets. Maybe I should make a grocery list on a spreadsheet. Bread, rotisserie chicken, humus, apples…
Friday, 2:00 pm
Then: ROCK ME MAMA LIKE A WAGON WHEEL–OMG look, a car full of Lambdas!
Now: Face wash. I need to add face wash to my grocery list.
Warning: this post contains lewd ogling of the male form, superficial conclusions drawn from completely subjective units of measure, and adds exactly nothing to technical or statistical preseason rhetoric for OKC’s beloved basketball team.
It is, however, a hot debate among the women of Oklahoma, and must be hashed out in public forums at least a few times a year. Plus, Marisa and I are sick of the overwhelmingly male-driven content on the site and need something for ourselves. So listed below is the active roster according the Thunder’s foxiest players. Feel free to debate my picks in the comment section ladies and / or gents.
12. Perry Jones III
Tall and strong PJ3 makes the countdown because of his boyish good looks, mysterious personality, and because there’s 12 players in an active roster and I needed a dude I was vaguely familiar with to fill up this slot.
11. Kendrick Perkins
Big Perk makes this list because every lady loves a bad boy. You know, a bad boy who likes to drink milk, tweet goofball sentiments, and has a viral internet meme based on his uh, soft and tender emotional side.
10. Jeremy Lamb
Even though he’s only a few years younger than me, ogling my babyfaced Lambikins makes me feel like a cougar. But not an awkward and creepy one like Demi Moore or Madonna–more like a chic cougar, in the same vein as Sandra Bullock dating Ryan Gosling and Cameron Diaz dating Justin Timberlake.
I’m pretty sure I still hold the record for most detentions ever received in a single day at Jenks High School. I still remember the chilly November day when my assistant principal called me in to her office and showed me an entire laundry list of misdemeanor offenses–tardies, dress code violations, forgetting to wear the stupid student ID lanyard, texting during class–I’d committed over the last few months. She wrote me up for 42 hours of detention, maniacally laughed, then shooed me to AP Lang so she could get back to admiring photos of her cats.
A couple days later, I told the head principal what happened, and he reduced my sentence down to from 42 detentions to sorting books at Jenks Southeast Elementary’s library after school for a few days. I’m definitely not denying that favoritism was involved – after all, I was one of those annoyingly involved kids who was in like eight clubs, class secretary since middle school, did the morning announcements in his office every day, and frequently brought him Starbucks lattes. But I also like to think that leader of my fine school recognized that an ancient punishment rubric developed by people who don’t even interact with students doesn’t always contain the most sound logic.
Of course, there are always those unprecedented cases when no one knows what to do, freaks out, and loses sight of the entire point of school and students and ethics and reason and all that good stuff. Like when kids write erotica about their band directors.
From News on 6:
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