It's official - the New Year's Resolution crowd has forsaken my gym once again in their annual rite of spring passage. 
This departure is regular as clockwork, a flight that make me happy because I loathe crowded gyms, lines for equipment and male nudity in the locker rooms. Obviously, you can never fully get away from the last one, however, when the population density is at peak season, there is nowhere to turn without swinging appendages and hair running amok. 
{Editor's Note: This never happens inside actual locker rooms."}
It can also lead to uncomfortable exchanges like the one I had a few weeks ago:
Naked, Hairy Man: "How often do you work out?"
Me (wearing towel): "As often as I can."
Naked, Hairy Man: "I can tell. What should I do about this?" (Grabs his ample belly)
Me (wearing towel): "Keep working out. Diet's also pretty important." (Start walking towards shower)
Naked, Hairy Man: "So no Cheesesteaks for lunch everyday I guess."
Me: "Maybe not every singe day." 
I admire the fresh expectations set every January, and am generally encouraging about anyone starting a fitness program - I just want them to exercise at a time when I'm not there. This is not a trivial matter for me as I hit the gym every weekday at 6:45 a.m.
At that time of day, I have only had 1 cup of coffee and don't want to talk to anyone except my Ipod, a stance that often gets ignored with this mass influx of people who seem to enjoy performing one set of an exercise and then want to stand and chat about it for 5 minutes.
But these minor issues are now finished. The thinning crowds started in March, and have reverted back to the regulars by now. Although I understand the cycle, the timing still seems strange to me because January and February have to be the least motivating months to start working out.
The weather is putrid. You're still wearing baggy clothes with multiple layers and the beach is a pipedream. Then, when the weather starts to actually warm up in March and April, the cycle is finished and drop-offs increase just as people start wearing less clothing. It seems ass-backwards to me.
In theory, the best case would be to start the program in March and then quit in the summer. Then, by the time your body caught up to the lack of exercise, it would be nearly fall and the clothes start piling on once again which would hide the lack of effort.
Oh well, this cycle is simply another force that I don't understand like the one which causes the dryer to lose my socks or why bad things tend to come in threes. That being said, I'm simply content to shower in a locker room where I can roam freely without watching every single step.
-BDS
{This is the fourth in an occasional series documenting some of the horrendous CD choices that I've made over the years with attempts to put into context/explain the rationale behind such purchases.
I have nearly 500 CDs, which is by no means massive, and although I've weeded my collection down over the years, there still lurks many albums that have survived for various reasons - little of which involves actual musical talent.}
Artist: Kid Rock
Album: The History of Rock
Times Played Since 2000: 4
At one point in time, Kid Rock's "Devil Without A Cause" was a fairly decent party album, and it was because of that project that I chose to purchase "The History of Rock" many years ago. 
This was a classic mistake. Buying a hastily-released, follow-up album is the bread and butter of used CD stores. These albums are typically brutal efforts by artists and record labels to milk money from the public while supplying inferior products.
"History of Rock" certainly falls into this category, and although the bar was set pretty low from the outset, it still managed to exceed those expectations. Most tracks felt like studio outtakes that should never have seen the light of day. Others were just lazy boasting with slow rhythms backing the vocals. 
At the very least, I figured that my purchase would yield several tracks to provide solid workout music for my Ipod, however, even the best song on the album, "American Badass," made me laugh out loud towards the end. It was entirely due to the lyrics as I found it impossible to sing along with:
Who knew I'd blow up like Oklahoma
Said fuck high school, pissed on my diploma
Smell the aroma, Check my hits
I know it stinks in here, cause I'm the Shit
"I know it stinks in here, cause I'm the Shit" - that is hilarious except I'm not sure that Rock is in on the joke.
In the case of the album, however, the joke was entirely on me and it's still a mystery as to why it remains in my collection as there is a plethora of used CD stores in Austin.
-BDS
{The workplace is a jungle filled with jackals, wineheads and bosses with mouths like a crocodile. There are also decent people, but I'm starting to question the percentages. This is the seventh in a series of corporate encounters which offer no easy resolutions.}
It was 4:52 p.m. on Friday, and my first drink had just arrived when my Blackberry went crazy. 
My wife, brother and other assorted friends were en route to a downtown bar for Happy Hour, however, my spirits were already sinking as I read the email from my boss declaring an "Emergency Conference Call" at 5 p.m. Absolutely nothing positive is announced that late on a Friday, a fact that filled me with trepidation as I began to envision elaborately awful scenarios.
I finished my drink, and stepped outside on the patio to dial into the conference bridge where musak greeted me and made me want to punch someone.
At 5:03 p.m., my boss started the call five minutes of blather, thanking us for our time and yet telling us nothing about why we were forced to have this call. I figured that the company had been sold or my boss had quit/been fired, our department was being eliminated or some disgruntled employee had burned the place to the ground.
I just knew that something monumental must have occurred that would dramatically affect my weekend, and possibly my future.
Then, my boss simply announced that a Vice President from another department had been fired. He called the meeting to get ahead of the "office grapevine," so we were informed with accurate information. Whew. 
I was relieved, then angry as the call went for another 15 minutes filled with platitudes and kind words for our departing colleague, a person I did know and felt sorry for their situation, however, the firing information was far from vitally important to my everyday world. Calling an "Emergency Conference Call" on a Friday afternoon should be reserved for impending disaster-type scenarios that simply cannot be kept internal.
Otherwise, hold that shit until Monday because the only Happy Hour scares I need concern an empty glass. 
-BDS
"Sometimes I got so bored of trying to touch her breast that I would try to touch her between her legs. It was like trying to borrow a dollar, getting turned down, and asking for 50 grand instead." - John Cusack, "High Fidelity"
I plan to ask for no money today, although I might just earn some before I slip out of the office and into the weekend. But before I address my stack of projects, let's tackle some important stories such as:
Donald Trump wants Ashley Alexander Dupre - the high-priced escort who took down Eliot Spitzer - to join the cast of his new MTV reality show.
Sources say The Donald thinks the Dupre would be perfect for the My Fair Lady-style reality show, which is based on the U.K. show called "Ladette to Lady," and will tackle a group of 15 hard-partying young women and send them off to a boarding school where they will be taught how to become more ladylike.
I hate to even think of what Trump will do for a casting call with Dupre, although I'm sure he afford the $4,300 meeting.
Jessica Simpson was released from the hospital this week after being treated for a "minor kidney infection" at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center.
The "minor kidney infection" is also known as "Chlamydia" in certain medical circles.
New Kids On The Block announced they are reuniting, and plan to release a new album and go on tour. The reunion comes 20 years after the release of the group's multi-platinum album, "Hanging Tough." 
The only difference is the band has been re-named "Old Men Desperate For Cash," but I think it still boasts a certain appeal.
A woman who was ordered to stay away from John Cusack was arrested on suspicion of stalking the actor and violating a restraining order.
Emily Leatherman was taken into custody Sunday after Los Angeles County sheriff's deputies were called to Cusack's neighborhood, where a cab driver reported that a passenger didn't have enough money to pay for the ride to get there, sheriff's spokesman Steve Whitmore said Monday.
"He (Cusack) told them he recognized the woman in the cab and that she had been stalking him," Whitmore said.
It was unclear from the reports whether Leatherman stood outside Cusack's gate wearing a trench coat and sporting a boom box playing "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel - but I wouldn't bet against it.
Woody Allen on Monday sued American Apparel Inc claiming the U.S. clothing company used his image in advertising on billboards and the Internet without his consent.
The ads show Allen dressed as a rabbi according to the suit, filed in U.S. District Court in Manhattan. Allen said he was neither contacted by the company nor compensated for the use of his image and is asking for damages in excess of $10 million.
"Allen does not engage in the commercial endorsement of products or services in the United States," according to the lawsuit.
Based on his history, however, Allen obviously endorses things from Asia.
After retiring as Regis' sidekick eight years ago, Kathie Lee Gifford announced her return to television this week as the co-anchor for the fourth hour of NBC's Today Show.
"I am truly honored to join the Today Show family, many of whom have been friends and colleagues of mine for years," Gifford said in a statement. "And I'm especially looking forward to working with Hoda, a bright and beautiful woman I admire very much. Together I hope we will bring a fresh and fun perspective to the topics that affect all of our daily lives."
I'm sure a distinct lack of money has been affecting Gifford's daily life since she has been virtually unemployed for the past seven years.
Jay-Z obtained a marriage license this week fueling speculation that he might marry Beyonce in the next few months, according to People magazine.
A source said the couple received the license, which is valid for 60 days, Tuesday morning. Knowles, 26, and Carter, 38, have been dating since 2002, but have been reluctant to discuss their relationship publicly.
The marriage was postponed for years due to fighting about which of their songs the couple will use for their first dance following the nuptials. Jay Z's "99 Problems (But a Bitch Ain't One)" finally triumphed over "Crazy in Love."
Jay Leno apologized Tuesday for asking actor Ryan Phillippe to give him his "gayest look" during his late-night show last week.
"In talking about Ryan's first role, I realize that what I said came out wrong. I certainly didn't mean any malice. I agree it was a dumb thing to say, and I apologize," Leno said in a statement.
Philippe also apologized for having so many to choose from that he refused to play along with Leno's trick.
As always, let's end with a gold image like: 
I suddenly feel like stretching out on a couch for hours and hours. So, watch out for bumps in the road today, don't fret about plowing ahead through any rough patches and . . . Happy Friday!
-BDS
{This is the Twelfth in a recurring series which will explore the brutally complex concept of monogomy in increasingly outlandish scenarios. We hope these will be illuminating what-if scenarios, and that they will cultivate some intense philosophical discussions around what, if anything, really constitutes cheating.}
Is It Really Cheating If:
Your wife/fiancé/girlfriend has slipped on liquid pomade, fallen down the stairs and twisted her back which puts her in the hospital. 
She is in gut-wrenching pain, a condition which causes the doctors to place her on a steady stream of painkillers and morphine. This potent combination keeps her distanced from reality for several days as you vigilantly visit her in the hospital.
One night while you are watching her doze from the medication, an attractive blonde nurse comes into the room to give her a sponge bath. 
"Do you want to watch?" the nurse asks you.
Of course.
You comment on the nurse's fine attention to detail as she scrubs your wife/fiancé/girlfriend into a state of cleanliness that seems unparalleled in your mind. The nurse watches you for long periods as this occurs, and as she finishes the job, she confides that she could persuade the doctor to give your wife/fiancé/girlfriend expensive treatment that is guaranteed to speed her recovery for a fraction of the cost - if she can give you a sponge bath as well. 
You glance at your wife/fiancé/girlfriend who sleeps on the bed. Her pain is still evident, so you quickly shed your clothes and have every inch of your body rubbed down with the thoroughness of a shoe-shine attendant and the tenderness of a fine butcher.
The next day, the doctor applies his treatment to your wife/fiancé/girlfriend, and within another day, she is out of the hospital and feeling better with only the hazy memory of you lying buck naked in her room, a recollection you blame on the drugs.
So, to help expedite her recovery, and given your own predilection for exquisite hygiene as well as the fact that she doesn't recall the incident . . . Is it really cheating?
-BDS
{The workplace is a jungle filled with jackals, wineheads and bosses with mouths like a crocodile. There are also decent people, but I'm starting to question the percentages. This is the sixth in a series of corporate encounters which offer no easy resolutions.}
It takes a peculiar kind of person to berate an entire department on Friday afternoon, and then leave for a week-long Hawaiian vacation the following Monday.
But it happened this past week as my Vice President called an impromptu meeting at 3:00 p.m. The conference call was mandatory. The timing brutal. Typically, if I'm still in the office past mid-afternoon on a Friday when the sun is shining, then something has gone horribly awry.
Something was rotten in Denmark, and apparently, it was rested largely on our shoulders. Thankfully, the call was brief, but the point driven home time and again was that we had let the company down, we had let ourselves down and quite possibly the nation as a whole.
We were thin-skinned, yet too thick in the head to do our jobs with the diligent detail necessary to conquer our competitors and bolster the valuation prospects of our own company.
We were scum. Lazy ingrates without the ambition to unzip our flys before pissing all over the company, and more importantly, the Board of Investors. 
Veiled threats were uttered. Jobs called into question. Many a suggestion included "looking ourselves in the mirror" each day, a stance that I was unsure whether it would solve motivational issues or if the staff simply had a distinct lack of personal style or hygiene. I felt confident in the latter category.
All this vitriol was coming from a guy who was about to be sitting on a beach in Waikiki the next week, slathering on suntain oil and sipping boat drinks. Nice timing, eh? 
I knew all this during the call, and that's where my focus stayed as he ranted on topics of ineptness and sloth. If I had the ability to throw my voice like that guy from the "Police Academy" movies, I would have chimed in with a "You all packed for Hawaii," however, my ability to do voices/accents is embarrassing and I also don't look highly on getting fired or quitting one job before you have another lined up.
So, once the call ended at 3:21 p.m., I left the office and met some friends downtown for happy hour. But I did look in every mirror I could find on the journey and I liked what I saw.
{Editor's Note: I do realize that leaving the office vaguely justifies the general complaints of laziness, however, I have done just fine so far this year.}
-BDS
Worth Full-Price, Matinee or Rental: Matinee or rental. It's been a wasteland at the theaters since the beginning of 2008, so that's probably why I was pleasantly surprised by this movie. Still, I would only pay a matinee price as the entertainment value lines up nicely with that dollar amount. It would also make an excellent rental.
Will I Own It On DVD: No. But I would watch it one more time when it comes on HBO/Cinemax/Showtime. 
1) I generally enjoy heist movies, and the fact that this film was a period piece based on a true story gave it an interesting twist. The story is set in London in 1971, a backdrop for a bank robbery which is put into motion to steal back incriminating photographs of Princess Margaret involved in an island threesome.
2) With a plethora of high-tech heist films in recent years (see "Ocean's Trilogy", "The Score," "The Italian Job," etc), "The Bank Job" is decidely old school as these amateur thieves just want to drill under the bank vault with a jackhammer. I respected the simplicity.
3) That being said, the the actual robbery was lacking in drama. I felt there should have been a few substantial challenges with the plan itself, but instead, the film focuses the dramatic tension on the fallout from the theft. It successfully manages to convey the problems of making a clean getaway, however, they could have upped the ante starting with the actual heist.
4) Jason Statam performs well as the leader of the small-time group of villians, whose members also include a photographer and a part-time porno actor among others. Saffron Burrows is the femme fatale involved in the heist for her own reasons. Personally, I didn't question her motives too closely as I simply found her very sexy and thus tended to give her the benefit of the doubt. 
5) "The Bank Job" also showed just what a swinging time it was in London in the early 70s. It seems that everyone was having sex. Some was kinky and some was semi-distasteful to their parents, others were simply straying outside the bounds of marriage and it seems that most government officials were living it up in high-end brothels compelete with dominatrix chambers. In this last regard, it seems that not much has changed since that time period.
If you enjoy heist films, and have been waiting for months to return to the theater, then you could do far worse than "The Bank Job." It is an extremely competent movie with a solid cast that gave me an enjoyable two hours on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
-BDS
"You keep runnin' that mouth I'm gonna' take you in the back and screw ya'," - Josh Brolin, "No Country For Old Men" 
Let the punishment fit the crime I always say or maybe I stole that from somewhere else. It doesn't really matter as another week is down, and I've got an empty loft this weekend to enjoy.
But before I stock up on Negro Modelos and shed my pants, let's look at the tough stories of the week such as:
"The Hills" star Audrina Patridge, 22, claimed a series of steamy photos which ended up online this week were meant to be creative yet never seen by the public.
"I intended them to be artistic and not in any way provocative," Patridge writes on her MySpace Celebrity page of the snaps, which include her posing with an arched back in a plaid, schoolgirl-like miniskirt and white knee socks. 
Personally, I can't wait until Patridge intends to take some provocative photos, but in the interim, her art shots will have to suffice.
Pamela Anderson ended another brief marriage this week as the "Baywatch" star's nuptials with Rick Salomon were officially annulled Monday, according to documents filed in Superior Court. The documents listed fraud as the reason for the annulment but did not include further details.
Salomon and Anderson, 40, were married Oct. 6 in Las Vegas then separated Dec. 13.
Anderson was infuriated when she learned that Salomon used a body double during his sex tape session with Paris Hilton, and once she discovered his deception, the marriage was fraudulent and finished.
A Dublin man has been released on his own recognizance by a New York judge after being accused of stalking supermodel/talk-show host Tyra Banks for several months.
The New York Post reported that 37-year-old Brady William Green was arrested last week after visiting the studio where "The Tyra Banks Show" is taped, carrying a duffel bag stuffed with magazine articles about Banks and asking to speak to her.
During sentencing, the judge expressed his disbelief that there was "a person living in this world who loved Tyra Banks as much as she loves herself."
People magazine reported Jamie Lynne Spears, 16, has received a diamond ring from hometown beau Casey Aldridge, 18.
A Spears family insider tells the magazine that the swelling "Zoey 101" starlet, who is reportedly about six months along, is excited. "She's got an engagement ring," the source deadpans. "She's been showing it off, talking about it."
Since revealing her pregnancy to OK! in a December cover story, Jamie Lynn hanging out with friends and earning her GED.
The engagement ring nearly completes the Spears parenting master plan of having your daughter become a teenage mother, then earn her GED and finish it off by getting engaged. I have no children of my own, but certain items in that cycle seem out of order to me.
Richie Sambora was arrested on a DUI charge in Laguna Beach, Calif this week after the Bon Jovi guitarist was pulled over about 10:52 p.m. Tuesday night.
Police said they spotted him weaving on the road as Sambora was driving a Hummer and was with three unidentified women, one adult and two juveniles. Sambora is scheduled to appear in court on May 7. 
It is rumored that Sambora told the cops he was sober and "It's My Life," and also claimed he simply ingested some Bad Medicine to which the cops replied that he was "Living on a Prayer."
Robin Williams filed for divorce from his wife of 19 years, Marsha Garces Williams, this week on grounds of irreconcilable differences. 
Apparently, the differences reached their breaking point when Robin made Marsha watch "Patch Adams" for the 12th consecutive night in a row.
Priscilla Presley confirmed this week that she was one of the high-profile victims of an Argentine plastic surgeon who conned women into injections of a low-grade silicone in 2003, claiming it was better than Botox.
"Priscilla Presley was one of many documented victims of Dr. Serrano," publicist Sam Mast said in a statement released Tuesday. "An investigation which uncovered his misconduct ultimately led to his imprisonment. Ms. Presley dealt with this matter years ago and everything is well." 
Everything is well except the ripples on her face, Mast later added.
In other health news, Demi Moore told talk show host David Letterman that she had tried the Leech treatment in Austria as part of a detox plan.
Moore said: "You watch it swell up on your blood... then when it's super drunk it just kind of rolls over like it is stumbling out of the bar." 
Moore's fondness for blood-sucking parasites might finally offer an explanation for Ashton Kutcher as well.
As always, let's end with a gold image like: 
I've always appreciated a limber body as the possibilities are endless. So, remember that anything is possible, unlock your body from its cage and . . . Happy Friday!
-BDS
{This is the Eighteenth in a recurring series that will only happen when I have consumed far too many spirits with my brother. Last night, a few pitchers of Bass were consumed which triggered strange thoughts, candid insights and pure horseshit. Selah.}
* Assume the worst at highway gas station restrooms
* Always cheat at Monopoly
* Early morning sunlight is the best way to tell if a woman still looks good
* Never have sex wearing socks - you look ridiculous
{Editor's Note: This is NOT me pictured.}
* Sleeping with your friend's sister is OK.
* Brush your teeth at least twice a day, shower the same amount
* Don't ever personally discover that a Cleveland Steamer can be performed outside of Ohio
* Crying at television commercials is a warning sign of an unbalanced life
* Always threaten people verbally so the evidence cannot be used against you in a court of law
* Comb-overs only lead to embarrassment for the wearer, and breed animosity or laughter for the general public
* "An alcoholic is someone you don't like who drinks as much as you do." - Dylan Thomas
-BDS
Somewhere south of Waco and west of Interstate 35 sits a towering Smiley-Face sign that is evil. 
My brother and I witnessed its venom first-hand yesterday during our drive back to Austin. We had been on the road for more than four hours, and desperately needed a bathroom break when we crested a hill and were confronted with the sign.
It seemed perfect. The gas station beneath the Smiley-Face offered an easy exit with an equally simple way to return to the highway. We parked, and entered feeling confident that this would be a relief, an oasis of good intentions belied by the sign out front. 
{Editor's Note: This was not the gas station in question.}
We couldn't have been more wrong.
Five feet outside the bathroom door, the odor began to waft and caused my nose to twitch. But nothing could have prepared us for the horror which awaited once the door was opened. I felt like I had stepped into the toilet from "Trainspotting" except that this bathroom was full of them. 
The smell was pungent and ripe. It nearly knocked you down as the air was thick with trapped, heated gas. I staggered sideways towards the bank of urinals, where I discovered that two out of the three available weren't working and the one that was in order had a trucker standing in front of it.
Ignoring the trash bags that covered the non-working urinals, some sick bastard had still decided to take a shit in one of them. What kind of sick animal craps in a urinal I wondered as my brother motioned towards the stalls.
My brother won the lottery in the stalls as his toilet was only covered in rotting piss. This was a best-case scenario because mine was filled to the brim with shit. Feces had breached the water line and risen like a vile wave on a angry day at the ocean and was threatening to exit the entire bowl.
Where do the employees of this hell-hole use the bathroom, I thought to myself?
There was nowhere to run, and no place to escape so I proceeded to urinate on this heaping pile of human filth while alternately reading some of the ugliest graffiti I've seen in awhile. Most of the messages extolled the virtues of Hispanic pussy, although amidst the misspellings and lewd suggestions, someone had drawn a nicely realized unicorn which provided me a certain calmness in the face of the abyss. 
Still, the whole situation was too much and I started to cackle. It began as a small laugh, then eventually erupted as I felt myself losing my grip on reality. I heard my brother flee his stall and this horrible bathroom and I managed to follow suit without touch anything on the way out.
We were both shaken from the ordeal as we stepped into the fresh air waiting outside.
Nobody said anything for the next 20 miles of highway driving as we both realized just how lucky we were to have survived. The Smiley-Face was a cruel joke, its perverse laughter rang in our ears as we made our way back into Austin, alive and well but forever changed by a gas station restroom that should be burned to the ground.
-BDS
