8 Days a Wreck

As a plastic surgery copywriter, taglines are sort of my specialty. And after reading about how doctors are now injecting FDA-approved collagen into the G-Spot to enhance its sensitivity, increase its width and raise its height about a quarter of an inch, a single tagline immediately came to mind: “Collagen. Get Some.” Looking online, I discovered a site promoting the procedure that uses the tag “Feel the Rush” (nice!). A tip of the Jimmy hat to the copywriter who came up with that one.

Anyway, the procedure to inject collagen into the G-Spot is known as…

• G-Shot
• G-Spot Amplification
• Orgasm Jab (seriously, i didn’t make that up)

The procedure makes the G-Spot not only an easier target for men trying to “hit that,” but women have said that it’s allowed them to have “constant multiple orgasms” that go on and on and on and on for hours, allowing men to get in, get out and get on with their lives.

Caroline Cushworth, the first British woman to elect the procedure, was quoted in an article on the Daily Mail’s Web site (”Ive had the G-shot… and YES, YES, YES, my sex life has never been better”), as saying “… the whole thing was so intense I was actually a bit scared. I was so overcome, but thankfully the intensity is something I’ve got used to. I still have multiple orgasms every time I have sex, but they no longer leave me flat on my back.” No, sometimes they leave her on her stomach; on her side; leaning against a wall; on a table; sprawled across the hood of her Jaguar…
Man, somewhere Sting is getting stressed, and I’m loving it!!!

Anyway, back to the lecture at hand.

From my research, apparently the Orgasm Jab or G-Spot Amplification procedure - invented and trademarked in 2005 by LA gynecologist and plastic surgeon Dr. David Matlock - is very similar to using collagen to plump up thin lips. It’s a non-surgical treatment, and costs around $1,700.00 (a small price to pay for love… a lot of bang for your buck).

During the procedure, collagen is injected into the normally pea-sized G-Spot, enlarging it for as long as four months for longer, more intense orgasms. “Ask your doctor if Orgasm Jab is for you.” Ha ha! Anyway, with this particular procedure, downtime is something one actually looks forward to. In fact, you can be in bed hitting it within just hours of receiving the G-Shot (although you’ll want to set aside some significant time after that for hours and hours of constant orgasms.).

Justin Berton reports in an article on the San Francisco Chronicle Web site (”Enhanced romance. The G-Shot - Is it the latest panacea to improve your love life?”) that between June of 2005 and June of 2007 about 250 American women had elected the procedure. Did it do the trick? Well, the aforementioned Dr. Matlock said he conducted a pilot study based on a 20-person sample and of those who responded, 85% said the G-Shot was successful.

So, it’s like that and like this and like that.

Oh, if you’re a dude reading this, you’re probably thinking “G-Spot… what?” You’re not alone. Like Bigfoot or Leprechauns or Draculas, the existence of the G-Spot has been questioned by both men and women since German gynecologist Dr. Ernst Gräfenberg first described it in the International Journal of Sexology in 1950 (guess where I’m off to after posting this? eBay!). Anyway, show me, don’t tell me Dr. G.

Until the next episode…

Recently, I wrote in America - Land of the Free Boob Job about how Torrid at Hawaiian Tropic Zone is celebrating Independence Day by giving away a “free pair of boob’s” [sic]. And sick! Unfortunately, although male breast reduction (gynecomastia) was performed over 21,000 times in 2007 according to the American Society of Plastic Surgeons (ASPS), men are neither eligible to compete in nor win Torrid’s Red, White & Boobs. Well, it didn’t take long for this Son of Liberty to stand up for men everywhere by standing up to Torrid/Hawaiian Tropic Zone. After all, the event is to celebrate our country’s birth. Well, wasn’t America born of the belief that all men and women are created equal? Yes. Well, women aren’t the only ones who elect breast enhancement to look their best and live, hopefully, more fulfilling lives.

Anyway, it’s time for me to stand down. Mission accomplished. “That’s great, Mike! So, they’re allowing men to compete in and win free boobs?” Uh, not exactly. Apparently, as is the case with most blogs, my post did absolutely nothing to change anything. “Then, why? Why, Mike, are you giving up?” Because I have a new cause…

National Go Topless Day!

Who: www.GoTopless.org (brought to us by The Raelian Movement)
What: Women. Go. Topless. In. Public. All. Day.
When: Everyday. Every dang day of the year. Okay, maybe Go Topless Day isn’t everyday. Okay, fine. It definitely isn’t. It’s Saturday, August 23, 2008.
Where: California’s Central Coast. But, also in Washington DC, Los Angeles, Miami, New York City and Hawai’i. Still, primarily on California’s Central Coast.
Why: To raise awareness of equal rights for both men and women.

Rael, “the spiritual leader and founder” (and friggin’ genius) of GoTopless.org states “As long as men are allowed to be topless in public, women should have the same constitutional right. Or else, men should have to wear something hide their chests.” Hear-hear.

Wait a sec… who’s this Rael? This is Rael in front of his space ship…

And this is Rael jamming on his guitar…

And this is me realizing that writing wasn’t the wisest of career choices. Anyway…

Rael was born Claude Vorilhon. Apparently, he was a singer-songwriter who wrote over 200 songs under the pseudonym Claude Celler. He also raced cars and was a sports car journalist. Then, on December 13, 1973, he happened to be at a volcano park in France (wonder what he was doing there?) where he ran into a “human from another planet” who created us. Oh, okay. Now, I know what he was doing there. Anyway, ET explained our origins and provided info on how to “organize our future.” National Go Topless Day!!!

Anyway, today the Raelian philosophy is one of free love, non-violence and women going topless. Hear-hear. Oh, and a central part of his teachings is that of sensual meditation (massage) so as to experience the “cosmic orgasm.” It’s a central part of my teachings (aka pleadings) too!

Okay, let’s get serious. I doubt that most women will celebrate National Go Topless Day. Too bad. So, I agree with Rael then that we ought to have a National Dude, Put On a Shirt Day. You see, upwards of 60% of American men suffer from gynecomastia, or “woman like breasts.” The good news is, like I said, over 21,000 men in 2007 took action and elected breast reduction surgery. The men who didn’t? Well, one of two things:

1. They’re still living with and suffering from low self-esteem due to “man cans,” and are covering up, or
2. They could care less about how they look (which is great for them), and we’re the ones suffering when they walk around all summer with their shirts off (which is horrible for us).

I can’t remember who said it, but it went something like, “Writers hate to write. Writers love to read.” I actually enjoy both reading and writing (although I hate arithmetic). Still, the quote got me to thinking about the books I’ve read since this time last year. Back then, I was providing professional SEO copywriting to a California interactive agency that specializes in online marketing for the elective healthcare industry (plastic surgeons). On the whiteboard in the break room, my co-workers compiled a Summer Reading List, each contributing the names of two or three books they had enjoyed. If memory serves, I suggested, “A Confederacy of Dunces” (Toole) and “Other Electricities” (Monson). Anyway, here’s what I’ve read since (in no particular order):

• Magical Thinking (Burroughs)
• Possible Side Effects (Burroughs)
• Slapstick (Vonnegut)
• God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater (Vonnegut)
• Jailbird (Vonnegut)
• Cat’s Cradle (Vonnegut)
• The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby (Wolfe)
• The Glass Castle (Walls)
• My Goodness (Queenan)
• Red Lobster, White Trash and the Blue Lagoon (Queenan)
• On My Way to Where? (Previn)
• Spoon River Anthology (Masters)
• Bluebeard (Vonnegut)
• Timequake (Vonnegut)
• Milk It! (DeRogatis)
• The Partly Cloudy Patriot (Vowell)
• The Last Time They Met (Shreve)
• The Selected Poems of Anne Sexton
• Angels and Earthly Creatures (Wylie)
• Dictionary of Foreign Terms (Nerd)
• Plastic Surgery: Beauty You Can Buy (La Barre)
• The Stories of Raymond Carver
• A Modern Priest Looks at His Outdated Church (Kavanaugh)
• Web Copy That Sells (Veloso)
• Don’t Make Me Think: A Common Sense Approach to Web Usability (Krug)

And, here are the books I hope to get to just as soon as possible:

• Sharp Teeth (Barlow)
• In Persuasion Nation (Saunders)
• When You Are Engulfed In Flames (Sedaris)
• Water for Elephants (Gruen)
• Absurdistan (Shteyngart)
• The Life & Times of the Thunderbolt Kid (Bryson)
• The Complete Guide to Writing Web-Based Advertising Copy to Get the Sale (Taylor)

Oh, and I also read “Saint Morrissey” (Simpson). Speaking of Morrissey, in the song, “Sister, I’m a Poet,” Moz sings…

All over this town
Yes, a low wind may blow
And I can see through everybody’s clothes
With no reason
To hide these words, I feel
And no reason
To talk about the books I read
But still, I do

Like Morrissey, I have no reason to talk about the books I read, but still, I do. OK, actually, I do have a big reason, because I’m featured in one of those books that I hope to get to soon - The Complete Guide to Writing Web-Based Advertising Copy to Get the Sale. Back in February, Vicki Taylor at Atlantic Publishing emailed me asking if I would be willing to talk about my professional SEO copywriting experiences for a case study to be included in her book. I would, and I did. And, you can read the interview/case study on pages 204-207. Or, simply check back here at 8daysawreck in the coming weeks…

As we prepare in less than a month to celebrate our nation’s independence from King George III, let’s take an honest look at the state of our union under King… I mean, President George W:

• The dollar’s at an historic low
• We’re fighting wars in both Iraq and Afghanistan
• U.S. homeowner equity is at a record low (46.2%)
• Record home foreclosures and mortgage delinquencies
• The nation’s jobless rate jumped to 5.5% in May (the largest monthly increase in 22 years)

But, it’s not all low, low, low, because…

• Oil’s at an all-time high ($138 a barrel as of this writing and expected to climb to $150 a barrel by July 4)

So, besides “it could be worse,” what do we have to be thankful for this 4th of July?

Free boobs!!!

You see, Torrid at Hawaiian Tropic Zone is celebrating the 4th of July by hosting, “Red, White & Boobs,” a contest in which one “lucky” woman will win free breast augmentation (AKA “freedom boobs”) to be performed by Cosmetic Surgery of Las Vegas’ Dr. Samir Pancholi.

Seriously, what better way to celebrate our nation’s independence than by giving away a free pair of boobs, right? Wrong. The fact is this “Red, White & Boobs” is about as unpatriotic as it gets. Why? Because in the Rules & Regulations it says, “Men are not eligible to compete or win.” Why not? After all, wasn’t it Benjamin Franklin who wrote in our U.S. Constitution that, “all men are created equal”? No, he didn’t. Thomas Jefferson wrote, “all men are created equal.” And, it was in our Declaration of Independence. Don’t worry about it. History’s written by the winners, and read by the losers.

Anyway, what’s important here is that women aren’t the only ones who have boob jobs. In fact, according to the American Society of Plastic Surgeons (ASPS), male breast reduction (gynecomastia) was performed 21,311 times in the U.S. in 2007. Seems to me that it should be self-evident then that “Red, White & Boobs” treat the sexes as equals and open the contest up to both men and women. Then, finally, this 4th of July, we Americans can say in a single, unified voice, “mission accomplished.”

As Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “I have a dream…”

Mike

P.S. You know what really makes me mad about this contest? They put an apostrophe in “Boob’s” (???). It’s not “boob’s.” It’s “breasteses.” You know, Torrid/Hawaiian Tropic, there’s a plastic surgery copywriter out there. And though his (my) services aren’t free, he (I) can be bought. Hit me back.

To the Last of the Famous International Playboys,

Despite the fact that you’ve never written, called or even faxed (I’ve got one, you know?), I’ve remained a loyal fan of yours for 20+ years. In fact, I’d say that I’m probably your biggest. Over the course of the past couple decades, I’ve not only followed your career, but also everything you’ve said to the letter. And while we’ve each grown a lot older, I can honestly say I’ve never grown tired of you. Although, with the video to your new song (”All You Need Is Me”), I don’t mind saying that I feel like your calling my loyalty into question. Anyway, it’s because of the obvious connection between the two of us that I’m sending you this silly note.

You see, I’ve learned a lot from listening to your songs (here, by the way, are the Top 10):

10. A bad haircut can indeed totally destroy your life
9. LA is too hot (I speak from experience having lived there 1991-2006)
8. The world is full of crashing bores
7. Shyness can stop you from doing all the things in life you’d like to (actually, I’m still in the process of learning this one)
6. Keats and Yeats are no match for Wilde
5. Most people keep their brains between their legs (and never is this more apparent than when I’m in some pub, watching everyone around me laughing and singing and finally living… while I sit in the corner enjoying a Guinness and getting off on The Selected Poems of Anne Sexton. Thank you… I think.)
4. Envy makes magistrates cry
3. Everybody needs to be loved
2. Everyone lies (and you said it long before Dr. House)
1. Everyday is like Sunday… silent and grey

I would say that I also learned that some girls are bigger than others, but honestly, I kind of figured that one out on my own.

Anyway, you see, because you’ve pretty much always been there for me, I want to be here for you now. Dude, the video for your new single “All You Need Is Me” sucks.

LIKE YOU, I AM HATED FOR LOVING

Besides all of the cash I’ve spent on your albums, concerts and merchandise over the years, I’ve also paid another price in the form of ridicule and threats of violence (I’m from Indiana). Still, after seeing the video for “All You Need Is Me,” I’m willing to pay a bit more. How’s $50 sound? Just have your people contact my people (me) - and again, yes, I have a fax - and the $50 is all yours. In fact, if you have a PayPal account, I can have it to you in minutes. Now, I understand $50 might not seem like a lot to you (although it’s a whole heck of a lot to Andy and Mike, mind you), but I figure it’s 10 times the budget of this video.

LIKE YOU (HOPEFULLY), I AM DISAPPOINTED WITH THE VIDEO FOR “ALL YOU NEED IS ME”

I know the Internet isn’t really your thing, but here’s what some of your other fans have to say about your new video (note: the following opinions don’t really matter as much as mine, because like I said, I’m your only true fan):

• “A legend made to look way too cheap.”

• “Groan. The production value? Well, there was none. I can only imagine this was all done with a hand-held Steadycam filmed in the backyard of Morrissey’s lawyer’s house.”

• “Feels like they were just messing about outside and then someone filmed it and then it was the new video. No real thought process.”

• “Awful. Just awful.”

• “Great song, but the video is really bad.”

• “A lot of very talented directors would have been willing to shoot a Morrissey video for little or no compensation. Instead, another pisstake.”

Now, this begs the question-who directed the video?

LIKE YOU (AT LEAST, I THOUGHT), I KNOW THESE THINGS TAKE TIME

The New York Observer reports that the video for “All You Need Is Me” was directed by Manhattan photographer and blogger, Patrick O’Dell. The Observer states, “… [O'Dell] is a massive fan who’d featured Morrissey shows on his blog… with the exception of a lo-fi, do-it-yourself sort of shoot he did for the experimental indie band Panda Bear, he’d never filmed a music video before.”

It shows.

The article also states that your former manager Merck Mercuriadis called O’Dell and asked him to not just film the video, but also to direct it-the following day! Nothing like waiting to the last minute, and then hiring someone with no experience.

LIKE YOU, WELL, I WONDER WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE?

Obviously, neither your songs nor your videos have received much radio/tv play here in America despite the fact that pretty much every song you’ve ever recorded is pure genius and you’ve made some really great videos (”Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before” and “Suedehead” immediately come to mind). Sadly, with your new video, I expect the trend to continue. Why? Because I could barely sit through it, and I love the song! Now, I’d like nothing more than to blame O’Dell (and over time, I’ll justify some reason to do just that), unfortunately, for the time being, I have to place the blame firmly on your shoulders.

Now, you’re probably asking yourself, Well, Mr. Entertainment Copywriter (I knew we had a connection, otherwise, how would you have known I’m a copywriter), what sort of video might you have shot? Well, let me answer your question with a question: in the video for a song called “All You Need Is Me,” why feature anyone other than yourself?

Here’s how I would’ve shot the video (in classic, black-and-white, of course):

Dressed in grey slacks, white dress shirt, black cardigan and wearing glasses, Morrissey stands in front of white (or black) backdrop as the song plays. Morrissey doesn’t dance. Morrissey doesn’t lip-synch. Morrissey doesn’t allow any of his band mates any camera time AT ALL. Instead, as the song plays, Morrissey simply does what he does best-plays coy, running his fingers through his hair, taking off and putting away his glasses. Pulling open his shirt a bit. That’s it.

I LIKE YOU (OBVIOUSLY), AND I WANT TO HELP

Your insightful and often humorous lyrics have helped me endure long, lonely nights. You have also enlightened me and countless others to the rights of animals. Additionally, you’ve influenced the way I dress and the authors I read. Most importantly, probably, through your always-witty interviews, you informed me very early on that any music other than your own was pretty much a waste of time and money. As a freelance copywriter, thank you.

In closing, I’m sending you this silly note for one simple reason-because I like you (and I hope that you’ll ask me to film and direct a video for your upcoming album, “Years of Refusal”).

Until that time, I’ll leave you with another comment left by a caring fan:

“… this man [Morrissey] so does not give a f*ck anymore. which is kind of awesome.”

Do you give a f*ck anymore? Because a lot of your fans (probably every one of them) do. And, I do, and I’m your biggest. So, tonight, please see these words in your head and consider them, kind sir.

I don’t need to tell you, as I’m sure your band is required to have the following tattooed on their bodies, but you were #3 in NME’s (I know, I know) Top 50 Heroes. Four of The Smiths albums made Rolling Stone’s 500 Greatest Albums. The 2008 edition of WOXY’s Modern Rock 500 included five of your songs. BBC Culture Show named you one of the Top 10 Living Icons. Telegraph named you (and Johnny) #3 Best British Songwriter(s), ahead of Paul McCartney, John/Taupin and Jagger/Richards. In 2007, the Synectics Survey of Contemporary Geniuses named you one of the Top 100 Living Geniuses.

You deserve better than the “All You Need Is Me” video. So do we, your fans. So does the song.

Anyway, this is the last blog I will ever post… no, I’ve changed my mind, again. Goodnight, and thank you.

You’ve read the trades (InTouch, US), and you’ve watched “American Idol” religiously. You even took time out from your hectic schedule to tune into QVC to support (and “study”) Paula Abdul when she was on TV selling her Star Pendant…

Paula: When you wear this, it says, “I’m a star.” (Actually, it says, “Made in China.”)

You’ve obviously done your homework.

Anyway, you’ve finally decided to move to Los Angeles to be a star. Still, you’re realistic enough to understand that it could take as long as 6 months to make it. At least, that’s what you’ve told your friends and family, although secretly, you tell yourself that you’ll give it a full year. Nice.

California here you come!!!

Welcome to LA, baby! Population: 3,225,674. Don’t worry. Traffic’s not always this bad… just between 4:45 AM and 3:30 AM.

Upon your arrival, you decide to take an acting class. Good call. Hey, you know the teacher! He’s the guy who played the dad on, “Small Wonder!” The show about that little girl who was a robot. Already you’re making connections.

You had a car, but it broke down, and you can’t afford another. You could, if you got a job, but then when would you have time to act? Exactly. Not that you’re acting yet, but soon.

You’ve stopped taking the city bus after one you were riding was raided by the LAPD SWAT unit. That’s okay, because walking gives you time to think… to dream. In fact, sometimes, when you’re walking back from class to your “luxurious” apartment (all apartments in LA are advertised as “luxurious,” btw), you’ll imagine Steven Speilberg or David Lynch pulling over and asking – practically begging – you to star in his next film.

Spielberg: “I need him for my critically acclaimed, big-budget, studio blockbuster!”

Lynch: “No, I need him for my critically acclaimed, indie art-house flick.”

Decisions, decisions. Oscar® or Palm d’Or? You decide that when the time comes, you’ll try and squeeze in both films.

Back at your apartment, you try to get a little sleep, but one of your three roommates is “trippin’ out.” You seriously think about buying a used U-Haul and living out of the back, showering, of course, at the gym. Like you have that kind of money, right?!

Hey, you auditioned for and actually got cast in your first play! And it’s Shakespeare even! Congratulations! The director, a manager at Applebee’s, even adapted the play – Midsummer’s Night Dream – setting it in a 1970’s disco! Opening night, 5 people show up to the 30-seat theatre. The second night’s cancelled. By the end of the six-week run, you’ve played to 29 people, several of those NOT friends or family! Oh, and you’re now doing drugs. It started off as character research, of course.

You’ll find LA is home to lots of cool restaurants and coffee houses. Most cooler than the restaurant you’ve suddenly found yourself working at for no other reason than meals are half-off. You learn pretty quickly, though, that you can sneak a snack of a cracker dipped in ranch couple times an hour.

While waiting for your talent to be seen (or to show itself), you decide to make your voice heard. You’ve got opinions, dang it! Especially since you’ve started doing drugs and starving to death. You even start to think that maybe politics is what you were meant for. After all, what’s a politician but an actor?

First, though, you’ll have to figure out if you’re a Democrat or a Republican. You read once that while liberals tend to have sex more often, Republicans tend to have freakier sex. You decide you’re a Democrat, because you could always get freaky by yourself. So, you go to your local Democratic headquarters and take a bunch of yard signs and bumper stickers (oddly enough, no one there wants to sleep with you). But, you never put any up or hand any out. How could you? After all, you’re too busy working part-time, pawning stuff to pay for that showcase and auditioning for game shows and reality television.

Finally, just when you’re about to give up and go home, you realize that you are indeed Republican AND, “porn curious.”

Anyway, not to be a downer, but you’ll eventually give up on acting, and decide to write. Lucky for you, there aren’t many writers in LA. How will you know a writer when you see one? Don’t worry. They’re immediately recognizable by the black baseball hat with “Writer” stitched across the front. “Why didn’t I think of that,” you’ll ask yourself.

Don’t give up! Sure enough, it won’t be long now before you’ll be writing…home to ask for money for a suit in which to interview (“no, mom, this time, it’s a real job”). It’s a lie, of course. That acting class is finally really paying off! Your parents will send the money, but you’ll spend every last penny over on Melrose Avenue on condoms, herbal ecstasy and an oversized retro, pimp hat.

All of this, and you haven’t been in LA for even a year yet.

But, hey, what do I know? Go for it! After all, I’m just an freelance copywriter who lived in Los Angeles for over a decade.

Still, with all of that said, if you really want it, stick with it. Be patient. Believe in yourself, and work everyday towards your goal. Maybe it’ll happen, and maybe it won’t. But, at least you’ll know you gave it your best shot.

Obviously, racing horses is risky business (it’s not a sport). And being a business, there’s big money in betting on the non-sport of horse racing. There’s also a whole lot of regret associated it. At least, there ought to be.

Genuine Risk, Winning Colors and Regret are all names of fillies that have won the Kentucky Derby. Today, in the 134th “Run for the Roses,” Eight Belles attempted to become only the fourth filly to win the Kentucky Derby. Instead, she’s dead. Euthanized by injection in front of 157,770 on-lookers (the second-largest crowd in Derby history and the second-largest assembly of drunks outside of the Indy500), after breaking ankles on both of her front legs.

Starting from the No. 5 post, the filly came in second, although given that this beautiful horse is no more, it could be argued that she came in dead last.

According to Huffington Post, earlier in the week in Jeffersonville, Indiana, Hillary Clinton said, “I hope that everybody will go to the derby on Saturday and place just a little money on the filly (Eight Belles) for me. I won’t be able to be there this year. My daughter is going to be there and so she has strict instructions to bet on Eight Belles.” Well, Eight Belles gave her life to pay $10.60 and $6.40.

A few years back, Barbaro shattered his back leg at the Preakness and was eventually put down. Now, it’s Eight Belles. When will this cruelty end? It won’t unless you do something. You can start by…

• Neither attending nor ever again watching the Kentucky Derby on TV
• Joining PETA

The jockey who rode Big Brown to victory today said, “This horse [Big Brown] showed you his heart, and Eight Belles showed you her life for our enjoyment.”

Did you enjoy it? Eight Belles’ trainer, Larry Jones, said, “She ran the race of her life.” That’s for sure. Unfortunately.

According to the American Society of Plastic Surgeons (ASPS), in 2007, men accounted for 13% (or 232,619) of the cosmetic surgical procedures performed here in the United States. They accounted for 9% (or 883,972) of the cosmetic minimally invasive procedures performed during that same time. Overall, since 2000, male plastic surgery in America is up 9%. Those are the figures. Now, here’s the question: can plastic surgery for men continue to grow? Yes! If plastic surgery procedures were re-named to appeal more to men, absolutely!

Seriously, think of a man who’s “had work done.” He’s out with his drinking buddies and one asks, “Dude?” Yeah. “You get a tummy tuck or something?” Tummy tuck? Of course, he’s going to say, no, after all, a tummy tuck doesn’t exactly sound real manly now does it? No.

Now, while Jean Paul Gaultier just launched “Monsieur,” a line of cosmetics for men, I think more men might go for BOTOX® Cosmetic if “Cosmetic” wasn’t in the name. That’s a pretty bold claim on my part given that 296,012 BOTOX® Cosmetic procedures were performed on men in 2007. Obviously, there are a lot of men using BOTOX® Cosmetic already. Still, there might be even more if it were called, oh I don’t know… BRO-TOX® Juice.

While pectoral implants is a little more of what I’m talking about here, it doesn’t even compare with PECZILLAPLASTY!. No, that’s not a typo. “!” is part of the name of the procedure.

Enough with the mommy makeovers. It’s daddy do-over time!

How much will my tax rebate check be? According to the IRS, I should receive a check for $600. When should I receive my $600 tax rebate check? The Internal Revenue Service says, “the Treasury will begin sending tax rebate checks out in May.” So, if your local postal service is anything like mine, I should receive my check by, maybe, sometime in September… hopefully. That is, of course, if they don’t lose it.

Now, the all-important, how will I spend my $600 tax rebate check? Most likely, on male plastic surgery, specifically on a cosmetic minimally invasive procedure, such as on a microdermabrasion treatment. Men today have them, you know? In fact, I’m one of the many millions of men around the world - call us vain - who actually cares about his looks. I’m also one who doesn’t go for free cosmetic surgery (call me crazy), such as that being offered by Cosmetica Travel in Tunisia, whoever that is. Honestly, I received a Google alert this evening that stated how Cosmetica Travel is offering one “deserving” person who is “desperate to have cosmetic surgery, but can’t afford it” help and assistance in the form of free “world-class” cosmetic surgery. Yeah, thanks, but… no. Thanks to my “economic stimulus payment,” I can easily afford one of several popular cosmetic minimally invasive treatments. So can you. And, so should you, as the whole point of an “economic stimulus payment” is to? That’s right–to stimulate the economy. Stash it in the bank, and well, it’s un-American.

Anyway, there are at least four cosmetic minimally invasive procedures that I can afford thanks to my $600 tax rebate check. For instance, I could elect a microdermabrasion treatment. Men last year, according to the ASPS or American Society of Plastic Surgeons, accounted for 184,000 procedures here in the United States. The cost? On average, less than 300 Yankee Dollars.

Here are some other cosmetic minimally invasive treatments that can be had for less than the total of your $600 tax rebate check. I’ve also included the number of procedures performed on U.S. men in 2007 (please note: the costs below are from 2006 and are courtesy of the American Society of Plastic Surgeons):

BOTOX® Cosmetic: $492.00 (296,000 treatments)
Laser hair removal: $466.00 (177,000 treatments)
Sclerotherapy: $332.00 (5,372 treatments)

Last year, it was Dr. Martens that tried to use Kurt Cobain to sell their boots. Although I’ve been an entertainment copy writer for over a decade, I’ve been a member of Generation X my entire life. So, I was, of course, outraged! Kurt’s music meant a lot to me in the 1990’s, and it means even more to me today. The funny thing with the ads was that I don’t remember Kurt ever wearing anything but Converse®. Still, there he was in the ad dangling Dr. Martens over the side of a fluffy white cloud. Thankfully, the ad was pulled. Of course, not before serving the purpose of generating a lot of free publicity for both the boots and Saatchi & Saatchi, London, the agency behind the ads.

Well, spring is here again, so who’s using Kurt’s name (and lyrics and personal journal notes) for financial gain this time? Besides Courtney (”the girl with the most fake”), you mean?

Converse®.

You see, Converse® is about to celebrate it’s 100th anniversary (it’s 5th anniversary since being purchased by Nike, btw). And what better way to celebrate the “Converse® Century” than to, as Nike… I mean Converse® says, “honor Cobain” by reproducing the One Stars® Kurt was wearing when he “killed himself”? And what better time to do so than just a month after the anniversary of his “killing himself”?

Using a dead celeb to hawk merchandise is, of course, nothing new:

• Elvis.com has a TCB (taking care of business) sink strainer with heart-shaped holes ($12.99)
• Jamesdean.com has a James Dean Celebriduck. “It’s a bird… it’s a duck… it’s a James Dean Celebriduck!” ($9.95)

I can’t imagine who would buy these shoes except for either teenagers who would like to emulate Kurt or a fellow Gen Xer attempting to relive the early ’90s, because s/he didn’t really get it until the late ’90s. There’s still hope for the former. The latter? You’re on your own, although I’ll give you a bit of advice–Audioslave isn’t Soundgarden and Velvet Revolver isn’t Stone Temple Pilots.

Anyway, if you’re a kid thinking of purchasing these shoes “featuring artwork and scribbles borrowed from Cobain’s personal notebooks,” please remember that Kurt pretty much wore thrift store cardigans, old pajama tops, ratty t-shirts, torn jeans and pre-Nike Converse® that he wore until they were falling apart. There’s a reason music of the early ’90s was called, Grunge. The Cobain Nike/Converse® of 2008 come with “wear and fray detailing.”

Seriously, regardless of your age, if you liked Kurt or Nirvana, DIY. Here’s how:

1. Buy a normal pair of Nike/Converse® (Amazon/Target sell One Stars®, minus “Kurt Cobain’s signature subtly embroidered on the shoe’s outer” for half the price of the $50 to $65 in which Nike/Converse® plans to sell the Cobain versions). Get a black sharpie. Scribble ‘Kurt Cobain’ on the side.

Or

2. Go to Goodwill. Buy any pair of sneakers. Get a black sharpie. Cross out the brand. Draw a star, fill it in and put a circle around it. This would be my recommendation.

Then, with the money you and your friends saved, go buy some CDs. Or better yet, buy a cheap guitar like the kind Kurt played early on in his career. Then, as Kurt’s friend and Nirvana bassist Krist Novoselic said, “just bang something out and mean it,” and make your own CD. And as Krist also said, “remember Kurt for what he was: caring, generous and sweet.” Not for what he wore… or, in this case, something he never would’ve endorsed.

Now, if the shoes came in a collectible heart shaped box… well, that would change everything.

“Distressed in the way Kurt Cobain wore them, the shoes provide a rarely seen glimpse into the head of this musical and lyrical genius with sketches that display his hopes, dreams and lyrics from amazing songs such as, ‘Come As You Are.’” As my good friend Rick said… “my ass.”

Come as you are, not as Kurt was or as Nike wants you to be.

You’re still going to buy them aren’t you?

Oh, well, whatever, nevermind.