One of the best parts about the game is when you try to convince your opponent that the word you're playing is dirty. I mean, "tits" is a no-brainer. But then you get to "box" and you have to explain that it's a slang term for a vagina. And "seed" is semen. And "shoes" is... well I don't know. Something about a foot fetish maybe.

Here's a screenshot from a recent game between me and my wife. Enjoy.

Oh yeah - and I was holding onto those letters hoping I'd have a place to play "jugs". I failed.

1. Spiders live inside the couch. If you fall asleep there at night, they crawl out of the couch and all over your body and face. They might even lay eggs inside your ears and mouth.

2. Peanut butter and crackers combine to form glue inside your stomach. Eating too many crackers with peanut butter will basically turn your insides into a brick. You won't be able to digest any food or water and eventually you'll die from starvation.

3. Watermelon seeds grow into vines inside your stomach. Similar to #2 on this list, if you swallow watermelon seeds, they'll grow into vines that spread into your esophagus and intestines. And if you survive that, they'll eventually sprout watermelons that sill surely obstruct your digestion and breathing until you die.

4. If you stay in one position too long, your bones will fuse into place. Don't sit still for too long on the couch or you won't be able to bend your arms and legs. This also affects how you sleep. You have to wake up every hour or two and move around so you won't turn into a human statue overnight.

And if I ever do decide to become a superhero, I will surely be the best ever. Compared to me, Superman will look like a weirdo in blue tights and greasy hair with an ugly woman posing as his girlfriend. Which is what he is. But still.

So with all my greatness, I don't think it's fair to the evildoers of the world. I'll need to take a handicap, like in golf, or racquetball, or rheumatoid arthritis. My handicap is this: I'm going to reveal a full list of my phobias. My arch-nemesis can use this to try to destroy me. They won't win because I'm so awesome, but they can try.

1. Heights
   Fortunately I can't fly. I'll be a very grounded superhero. Like a vigilante homeless person on PCP. Any time I climb a ladder taller than 3 steps I start crying. Then I fall into a fetal position on the ground and cover my face. After about ten minutes I'll come out of it and slowly pull myself together. That's plenty of time for my nemesis to strike. But good luck trying, dipshit! I'm still a badass!
2. Spiders
   The little ones. Not the big furry ones. I can see the big furry ones and I can run from them. I worry about the little ones though. They could crawl into my ear canal while I'm sleeping and have sex in there and lay eggs and create entire colonies and take over my brain and turn me into a spider-zombie. Not in a cool way like Spiderman. In a shitty way. Like a zombie that shoots webs out of its ass and eats bugs.
3. Pubic hair
   The kind that are attached to a woman's body and trimmed and clean are fine. It's when a pube strand escapes from its host and lands on a urinal or a bathroom floor. That's fucking nasty. Once, I saw a pubic hair on my plate at a restaurant. Maybe it was stuck to the waiter's hand after a piss. Or maybe the cook put it there to fuck with me because he could tell I'm such a tough guy. Who knows. The mystery alone put me into a deep sleep. I passed out right there at the table and woke up 4 hours later face down in my plate, with spaghetti in my eyes and nose. I nearly died! I can't believe everyone just left me there sleeping in my food. With a pube right next to my face!
4. Feces
   Poop makes me vomit. Every time I drop logs, I have to flush immediately, before I catch a glimpse or a whiff. If I happen to smell the faint odor of a shit or a fart, I collapse in violent convulsions. It's a lot like epilepsy without the shaking. My nemesis would have a clear advantage in a fistfight with me if he were to smear human poo all over his hands before throwing the first punch. A poop punch. I just puked in my lap thinking about it.

So there you have it, folks. I'm laying all my cards on the table. One day I'll buy myself a badass superhero costume and hit the streets. And my enemies will already know my secrets. But it ain't gonna help, fuckers! Cuz I'm the bees knees and I'll take you out with a single eye-poke.

You can't do that shit with bread. Breadballs? Nope. Breadloaf? Hardly - bread is naturally in loaf form. How about corn? Cornballs? That's a fucking insult, not a food. Orangesquares, avacadotriangles, cabbagetrapezoids? Ridiculous.

Though I am a little confused. People form meat into all kinds of shapes and cook it, but they don't always name it after the shape they created. No one calls hot dogs "meatsticks". And you wouldn't refer to a hamburger as a "meatcircle" or a "meatdisc". I think you should. It's so much more descriptive. Next time you're at the ballpark watching a game, make sure to order a meatstick and a meatcircle. They'll appreciate your clarity.

Throw rappers names into your regular daily conversations. Like this:

Dork #1: "You want to go to the movies with me tonight?"
Dork #2: "Mos def."
Dork #1: "Awesome. I'm thinking we can check out that new creepy movie, Orphan."
Dork #2: "Coolio."
Dork #1: "Oh shit. I just realized we don't have a way to get there. My car's in the shop."
Dork #2: "Eazy E. We can borrow my mom's car."
Dork #1: "Fresh Prince!"
Dork #2: "What?"
Dork #1: "I'm just saying."
Dork #2: "I don't get it."
Dork #1: "Fresh Prince. Like - 'Fresh'. You know. Like it's cool that we can take your mom's car."
Dork #2: "That's Ludacris."

Thanks for contacting me! I think preying on the weak of mind is a zesty enterprise! How about this. YOU give me $1000, then, later, I will give YOU $1,000,000!!! All I need is your SS#, DOB, name, and.... well, $1000. Also: I am the King of Spain. I PLAN TO MURDER YOU SOON. Please take advantage of this opportunity, as it will not be available for long! I really hope to hear from you! Please keep this between you and I, as hope to complete this transaction in confidence. I think you are good looking. I am a Prince in Africa. I WANT TO EAT YOUR TESTICLES. I want to make you rich, however, I also want to tickle you into submission. DO YOU LIKE CEREAL? I think that puns are the highest form of humor! I am looking forward to hearing from you. If you answered yes to any of these questions, you may have an enlarged prostate, which could require lengthy surgical procedures! Painful and bloody surgery could cost you thousands of dollars, as this opportunity will assure you $999,000! It will also assure you a serious ball-licking, as well as a healthy prostate and murder! I hope you have pancakes for breakfast tomorrow, as I plan to have a squirrel throwing contest with your mother, in which the top-prize is the peanut you use for a brain. Toodles. Hope all is well. You are a salad bar!

Of course - responding to spam emails is a bad idea because it confirms for the spammer that your address is valid and current. Maybe you could set up a dummy email account just for this purpose (Gmail allows you to send from multiple addresses).

I didn't understand a word he said because of my headphones. Too bad, because I bet it was hilarious. 17-year-old high school brats are so very clever. In retrospect I'm glad I didn't hear it. I don't need that added stress in my life - being completely aware that I was mocked by pimply faced nobodies. For all I know, they were shouting words of encouragement. Starting now, that's how I will choose to remember the event.

It reminded me of something that happened a few weeks ago. A coworker and I were leaving our suburban office building at the end of a long work day, walking toward our cars. We were in the middle of some inane bullshit conversation ("Great weather we're having." "Yep."), when we were interrupted by a couple of bratty skateboarders.

The boys were doing some unimpressive ollies in our office parking lot. They were kind of nerdy - probably 13 or 14-years-old. I'm sure my khakis and long-sleeve button-up camouflaged the fact that I used to look and act like them. At work, I'm just another cog in the machine. The coworker chatting with me is a bit younger than I am and he probably looked a bit cooler that day. I think he was wearing jeans and an un-tucked shirt.

The kids interrupted our conversation by shouting "Are you gangsters?!" Kids are fucking idiots. You can quote me on that. My coworker responded: "Excuse me?"

Why would anyone consider engaging asshole kids in conversation? They should be treated the way conservatives view the homeless - ignored and forgotten. The rest of this conversation took place as we continued walking toward our cars. The kids' voices got louder as we got further away so they could make sure we heard them.

Asshole kid: "Are you a gangster?!"
Coworker: "Yeah, sure."
Asshole kid (louder): "How are you a gangster?"
Coworker: "I'm not sure what you mean."
Asshole kid (now yelling because we're so far away): "What makes you a gangster?"
Coworker (mumbling as he gets into his car): "Okay this conversation is going nowhere."

As my coworker shut his car door, the one kid addressed the other kid, yelling: "That guy looks like Bam Margera!" "Hahahaha"

I don't know what made the whole interaction so funny to them. They just laughed and laughed as we each got in our cars and drove away. It's still somewhat unclear if they were mocking us or just being silly. Whatever.

One thing that crossed my mind in both of these events is this: If I were genuinely bothered during either of these encounters, I could have done something about it. I could have insulted them. I could have engaged them in conversation and said some truly hurtful things - the kinds of things that would make them lose sleep at night. But they're just kids.

Even a 17-year-old cruising through South Philly with a megaphone in hand is just a dumb fucking kid who knows jack shit about life. Kids say stupid shit. They make mistakes and look foolish. I was like them 15 years ago. And 15 years from now they'll interact with cocky little pieces of shit. It's the cycle of life. How could I let that bother me. It's just the way things are.

So for the past year or so, I've started taking steps to gain a little weight. The right kind of weight. A little muscle mass. I started really slowly by upping my calorie intake and working out. But that didn't do much at all. So I slowly ramped up to the point I'm at today.

I eat as much as is humanly possible (lots of protein and carbs) and lift weights a few times a week. No wasting time on cardio. No wasting calories on desserts or fried foods. Just serious weightlifting followed by protein shakes, veggie burgers, eggs, bagels, etc.

A few months ago it started working. So far I've put on about 20 pounds. I'd guess 15 of that is muscle and the other 5 is fat. Yep. For the first time in my life, I now have love handles. And my belly is starting to stick out a little over my belt buckle.

Time to start adding some cardio to my workout routine. But I don't think I'm ready to cut back on my diet. I'll do that if I ever meet any of the following criteria:

12 signs you need to go on a diet
10 more signs you need to go on a diet

My favorite of his classic phrases was "I'd like to". It means "I nearly did" or "I am about to". It sorta makes sense in context. Like this: "I was on my bike and had to swerve around that dang car. I'd like to wreck that fucker." That means he was on his bike and narrowly avoided an accident with a car. He nearly crashed his bike.

The best use of this phrase was when he was experiencing stomach illness at work. Several times that day I saw him rush into the restroom. And each time as he came out of the restroom he announced "I'd like to shit my pants!"

Yep. "I'd like to shit my pants."