Archives for the month of: March, 2012

I am in a bit of a quandary. I think there are 2 girls that are interested in me (good problems?). These girls know and hate each other. Well, it might not be reciprocal hatred but atleast one hates the other. They both could potentially be crazy. I know that word gets thrown around about girls but since I have not seen any specific examples I will simply use the broad term of crazy.

So if I have not seen any specific examples of ‘craziness’ why would I make this assumption? Well every single person I have talked to has warned me about one of the girls (including herself… but isn’t self-awareness a symptom of sanity, not insanity? ahh- the philosophy of dating…. tricky). And the other girl has been given Switzerland reviews (the jury is neutral). However, she does have a weird habit of winking at me. And not in a self-confident Vince Vaughn way. Nor is it a grapefruit juice in the eye way. More of a deliberate, drawn out wink. I haven’t noticed if she does this to everyone else. It’s the single strangest flirtatious gesture I have ever seen. And I am oddly attracted to it. But that may be unique to me.

And so we begin the spring character arc of the movie that is my life. And I intend to entertain my audience. We all know how this will end right?

But how will we arrive at the disaster? Ah, thats the unwritten story. So we begin.

“His crush went from exciting to depressing, as if he’d gone from the first blush of infatuation to the terminal nostalgia of a former lover without even the temporary relief of an actual relationship in between.” Lev Grossman in The Magicians.

Thats where I was in blog posts past. All Closer– nothing more than the beginning and end of relationships. Going forward we are going to write a begininng, middle, and end.

I’m certainly not optimistic about how spring will turn out. Mostly because after 26 years I have never learned not to repeat past mistakes.

This is all assuming I don’t get bored. Crazy may be exhausting but it certainly does not produce ennui between the participants. Nobody is bored watching March Madness.

You’re probably wondering why I am going to pursue something with girls such as these. The obvious answer is why not? Honestly, everyone deserves a chance though. I’m attracted to both. As I get to know them better- rather, as they get to know me better, this will sort itself out (OPTIMISM).

I realize this probably sounds like I am proactively attempting to date both. That’s not entirely correct. I haven’t been on a date yet with either. Merely flirting, texts, and back channel communication. So BACK OFF ALRIGHT? And I pray that I don’t actually try that.

Fry: “Everything was going great! Then all out of a sudden, she’s talking about hanging out. Hanging out?! She’s getting way too serious. I’m not a one woman man, Leela.”
Leela: “You’ll be back to zero soon enough.”


I got tricked by one of your fellow readers (possibly the only one. Hi Jack!) into doing the Go Ruck Challenge. So in addition to my primary goals:

  • Hit an out of the park homerun in softball
  • Do the Patrick Swayze lift from Dirty Dancing without asking/requiring the girl to lose weight first

We will be adding the goal of train and complete the Washington DC Ruck Challenge. If anyone is interested in doing this then I urge you to train with me. And no one should be interested in this because it sounds like an awful no good very bad event. So yeah… sign up soon!

“8-10 HOURS. 15-20 MILES. GOOD LIVIN’.

The GORUCK Challenge is a team event and never a race. Inspired by Special Forces training and led by Green Berets, the Challenge builds teams and solves problems.”

Not mentioned is that you carry a 30lb back pack in addition to water and food etc. But it goes through downtown DC so I will basically see my hometown from a new ridiculously horrible perspective.

Seriously, someone talk me out of this. Throw a party June 15th and demand that I attend. Tweet me @MrMichaelMahn with my e-vite. GET ME OUT OF THIS.


I can’t remember the exact phrasing she used because it was St. Patrick’s day. But my mind translated it to mean “You should stay away from me because I am crazy.” I’m sure I replied with something brilliant. I probably said “oh yeah?” Perfect.

I definitely should have quipped that she should watch out for me because I’m a bad boy. I’m dangerous.

I’ve been writing for five minutes and this post has already gotten out of control. If my life was a movie this scene could play out a number of ways.

In a comedy she would say “you should stay away from me because I’m trouble and crazy” and I’ll say “yeah I don’t want any part of that! Crazy girl…” SMASH CUT to wedding alter.

In a drama she would tell me to stay away and I will find this irresistable and charming. I’ll reply with something suave such as “tell that to all the other guys, I’m not listening to it”. (not my best effort… thankfully it did not play out as a drama) and then instead of smash cut its a fade out to black, white text explaining time has elapsed, and then we would be in the midst of a realistically shitty relationship.

A dramedy would play out differently. I don’t know how it would turn out. I don’t really want to find out either. Gotta live my life like a light-hearted rom-com not some sort of mumblecore movie with realistic dialogue and genuine consequences. EFF that.


So I have been trying to regain strength in my legs and have been focusing extremely hard on knees out and full ROM for squats. That is the context you need.

Went to the weightroom today and watched this meathead overload the squat rack with weight and proceed to do half squats with his knees caving in during every single rep. Before the set he was bragging to his friend that he once maxed out at 450. But this was only 315. So after the set (after I finished cringing and wincing) I said to him “your knees were caving in,” to which he replied “yeah, they do that.”

That’s so perfect. They do that. They suuuuuure do.

Knees cave in.

“His ACL popped!”

“Yeah, they do that.”

THAT DOESN’T MEAN ITS GOOD, BUD! I wasn’t complimenting your knee caving in talents.

So, that’s the last time I speak up in the gym.

“Three days away, no more ballet.” – William Mahn.

I would love to attribute this quote to someone else seeing as how the original context in which it was delivered implied that it was actually an idiom. But I googled it and several other derivations and came up with no similar matches.

At any rate… The saying, which may or may not have been fabricated by my father, suggests that if you stop practicing ballet for three days then good luck trying to perform. The ballerina will have lost the mobility, flexibility, and strength necessary to perform at the pre-break level.

I’ve felt this way ever since that damn ski trip. I took a few days off from squats prior to the trip to be well prepared for the rigors of skiing in the Rockies and then obviously could not lift while out there. As you know, I also took a break from bloggin’ (aka stringin’ together references to movies that somehow relate to sad and inconsequential details of my life… with memes). Well, three days away and no more ballet.

I have struggled to get back into a rhythm writing (example: I just spent 5 minutes typing and retyping rhythm and could not prevent spell-check from underlining it. When I type ‘rythym’ just TELL ME HOW TO SPELL RHYTHM.) I also seem to have lost so much strength in my legs that I worked for weeks to gain.

This was basically a 235 word apology for writing such a boring post last time. It’s not my fault. It’s nature. Oh and I think I was still partially brain-dead from my hangover.

The plan for this week was to go see Friends With Kids and inevitably relate the themes and issues to the current state of my life. But instead I got one of those “Hey Mike…” texts where the girl cancelled an hour before hand. Something about allergies. Like I asked her out on a picnic or something. No worries. Also no reason to begin a text with ‘Hey Mike’. I know my name.

Then I thought about doing a solo-op mission but became self-aware of what I will feel seeing a movie about 2 friends who miss the marriage and babies boat and are jealous that all of their friends have already paired off. Nope. 21 Jump Street makes a heck of a lot more sense right about now. Reliving the glory days. Thats what I want.

So since I have not seen any movies recently to tie together all the threads in my life into one coherent blog post, let’s consult the recent comments section.

Jack says

Don’t sell yourself short on texting. You also came up with the idea of taking pictures of yourself pooping then texting them randomly. That’s pretty cool.


I don’t do that. Why would someone do that? Seems totally inappropriate. You must have my name spelled wrong in your phone.

It does remind me of something though. You ever get the feeling that there is something else going on around us in which we are totally unaware? By which I mean… are we suppose to send dong pictures to girls we like?

It seems to be a staple of the Brett Favre and Anthony Weiner school of texting.

In a parallel universe a couple ordinary people, me, and Brett Favre will be at a party discussing women and someone will get a girls number and we will debate how to text her. I’ll probably say something like ‘just text her right now. If she likes you then she’ll be ok with it. If she doesn’t then atleast you’ll know quickly’. Whereas Brett Favre will look incredulously at me, grab the phone, put it in his pants, and instagram that shit straight to twitter.

No pictures in this post because we’re keeping this SFW.

I suppose one of the original purposes of this blog was to document how I feel after I eat or drink certain things. Or how it effects my training or health. I think the example I gave was Jagerbombs. This anecdote fits that criteria.

I went to a party Saturday that was a mix of Americans and international people. At one point we were admiring a Brazilian liquor bottle and eventually we gave it a whiff. Smelled like death. Poison! It had a lobster on the label. What does that even mean!? Naturally, this did not prevent me from accepting someone’s offer to make me a cocktail.

So this dude starts muddling lime wedges into ice and then pours the liquor. And pours. And pours. Then he takes one of those 5 pound bags of sugar and just turns it upside down and dumps it. And dumps. And dumps. Not into a vat. Not into a tumbler. But into individual solo ups (not your Red Solo Cup party cups but the smaller cocktail solo cups). Then he muddled/stirred some more.

I watched him pour a bag of granulated sugar into fermented sugar cane liquor and at no point did I think this might be a bad decision.

Long story short, I suffered a fate worse than death on Sunday. A crippling, tormenting, entire day center of my forehead migraine, and non-stop am I going to throw up from the pain of this hangover, or not, feeling.

Not sure where I was going with that. But I will leave with you one piece of advice. Avoid liquors that have pictures of crustaceans on the bottle.

Recently I have a had a friend ask me for advice about how to pursue a guy she is interested in and other general dating/courting/texting advice. Every single time she asks me what to do I want to write back “Just watch He’s Just Not That Into You more,” before realizing that would be a pretty jerkish response.

So instead I just quote the movie.

Still can’t figure out why anyone would solicit advice from me on this subject. Definitely talk to more qualified people.

I mean I can help you text girls or guys but this really should be a sink or swim skill. I will offer advice as a friend but I really should offer a caveat with it. You are talking to someone that thought it was a good idea to text ‘did you have to?’ wait for a response and then text ‘did you have to let it linger.” For absolutely no reason at all.

/did I retread that joke? Couldn’t think of a more blatant example of poor form texting.

Any other liquors you can think of that make you suffer a fate worse than death? Anyone respond to friends entirely in movie titles? “Why won’t he text me?” “He’s just not that into you.” “How’d last night go?” “Failure to launch.”