I’m not a hateful person, but there are a few things in this world for which I have developed a strong dislike. At this moment, it’s boxer briefs with buttons on the closure.

These boxers look great on the box. I know that underwear models don’t require any kinds of further enhancements in the crotch-al area, but the buttons on the front add a certain element of class and sophistication that is appealing.

The reality is the buttons are a pain in the ass. They’re really small, and it can take several attempts to get them done up right. In the privacy of your own home it’s not a big deal, but when you’re standing at a urinal beside another guy, it can feel like an eternity. You start worrying that it’s taking too long, that your fumbling will be mistaken for something else, and who knows what might happen from there.

Sometimes you don’t quite get the button fully through, and as a result it comes undone several minutes later. It’s an awful feeling knowing that your little, I mean, big fellow has sprung free of the first barrier and is making a break for it. Free Willy indeed.

This discomfort would be worth it if they made my abs look like the guy on the box, but sadly that is not the case. As a result, I’ll be retiring the button-front boxers and returning to the old stand-bys. It’s either that or I need to greatly enhance my digital dexterity, and I just don’t have the time.

Just a few items that caught my attention this week.

Quote of the Week

From the National Post

“There is no punishment at Guantanamo … and this is not a prison,” said a second officer. “A prison is about punishment and rehabilitation; we do neither one here. We are about removing you from the battlefield and then keeping you from the battlefield in the [most] safe and humane way we possibly can.”

FYI, those locked up are not “prisoners,” but “detainees.” There are no “interrogations,” rather detainees are given “reservations.” Documents are “redacted,” not “censored.”

Runner-Up

From Mitt Romney’s concession speech.

“Today we are a nation at war. And Barack and Hillary have made their intentions clear regarding Iraq and the war on terror: They would retreat, declare defeat.

“And the consequence of that would be devastating. It would mean attacks on America, launched from safe havens that would make Afghanistan under the Taliban look like child’s play. About this, I have no doubt.

“I want you to know, I’ve given this a lot of thought — I’d forestall the launch of a national campaign and, frankly, I’d make it easier for Senator Clinton or Obama to win.

“Frankly, in this time of war, I simply cannot let my campaign be a part of aiding a surrender to terror.”

Bye-bye, Mitt. Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out, now.

Corporation of the Week

Earlier this week, British Petroleum (BP) announced an annual profit of $17.3 billion. As a result of the “very poor” annual performance results, BP also announced 5,000 job cuts.

Frankly, I’m with BP on this one. $17.3 billion just doesn’t go that far anymore. Those 5,000 mid-level workers had it coming. Maybe they’ll try harder in their next job to ensure their new employer doesn’t have to endure painful ridicule at the hands of irate shareholders.

Allow me to be shallow for a minute…

I have hair issues. For most of my 35 years, I’ve had the exact same style – short on the sides and back, with an incredibly straight part on the left. It’s the kind of style you see when you watch wholesome family shows from the 1950’s.

When I need a haircut, I almost always go to barbers. I started with John the Barber as a kid, and then went to a variety of cheap places in Kingston when I was in school (i.e. Shaky Bob and his $4.00 haircut). There’s something comforting about an old-school barbershop – that smell of talcum, the combs resting in the jar of blue stuff on the counter, the mounds of hair piled in the corners, the photos on the wall of various hair styles that haven’t been popular in a generation. It’s one of the few remaining male sanctuaries.

In the past year, though, B has been urging me to take some risks. New job, new style, get rid of the part. So, I’ve gone to her stylist at the spa a few times. Wow, is it ever cool. They take your coat, offer you a drink, and then some cute little thing spends five minutes washing your hair and massaging your scalp. John the Barber certainly never made me feel all tingly like that, which when I think about it is probably a good thing.

The only thing I don’t like about going to the spa is that I find it impossible to recreate what the stylist has done once I’m home. She has some kind of voodoo magic that allows her to do cool stuff with just her fingers and some product. I try to do the same thing when I get home and it turns into a swallow’s nest.

I was in a rush yesterday, so I had a setback and went to a new barber across the street from work. As I settled into the chair, I noticed the barber had been working on a drawing, and I asked him what it was. Bad move. It turns out he is a major Star Wars fanatic, and he was drawing a picture of his personal bounty hunter character.

During the next 20 minutes, I found out more than I ever care to know about Boba Fett, Jango Fett, and Mandalorian culture (apparently the Fetts are Mandalorian). He had pictures of the armour he’d made for him and his wife, the fan he’d put in his helmet, and the night vision goggles he was going to incorporate into the costume. He told me about the character he created, how Boba Fett was his mentor, and how he took Boba’s helmet from him after he died as a mark of respect. I found it slightly awkward, and I spent most of the time worrying about keeping a straight face.

So, sometime next month, I will probably head back to the spa and hope that Tiffany isn’t offended that I sought comfort in the chair of another man. God knows there’s nothing worse than a woman scorned wielding a pair of scissors.