Welcome to the first “Monday Morning Meltdowns”. Every Monday I will submit something that has me shaking my head. These are objects, acts, and ideas that make me pull my hair out, spinning my chair, and just meltdown in general. No person looks forward to Mondays due to the work week beginning, waking up early, and NBC’s “My Own Worst Enemy” starring Christian Slater. Hopefully, these Monday postings will cheer you up and help you realize that while Mondays may suck for you, at least you’re not Christian Slater every day of the week.

Here is a test for anyone to try on their own. Turn on a NBA game and close your eyes. What you are hearing is a bunch of women chanting constantly. Annoying, isn’t it?

Players like Kobe Bryant, LeBron James, and Paul Pierce have altered the way scorers are now playing the game. For years, players like Michael Jordan have been driving to the basket with the intent to draw a foul. The scorers knew they simply had to get close to their opponents, near the hoop, and they could get an easy whistle. Now, players are still dribbling to the hoop strong, but they are also yelling out when they go up for a shot.

• Lay-up in the lane – “OOOOhhh!”
• Short jump shot – “Heeey!”
• Ball blocked or swatted away while dribbling – “Motha f*****”
• Time-out called – “Whaaaa!”

Players are using any excuse to yell out loud and try to draw a foul. They are thinking if they yell out, while being guarded with the ball, the referees will assume they were fouled. Are you kidding me?! Even if Shaq punches you in the face you shouldn’t make a sound (unless it’s a giggle if he says Kazaam while hitting you).

Watching a NBA game now is like watching a women’s softball game: non-stop chanting and yelling. In softball, I don’t know how the coaches can sit on the bench in tight situations and think.

This post goes out to you patient deaf softball coaches. We solute you.

There are very few Gazzuolos in the wild these days. Slowly our numbers have been dwindling due to too many Gazzuolo women. In my family I have three sisters…and not those crazy headstrong sisters who want to keep their own last names. I’m talking “throw my surname away as soon as I meet any suitable male” sisters. I am one out of four children, the sole male, the heir to throne Gazzuolo.

It’s Good to be King

With this crown comes a lot of responsibility, but I fear not! Like a wise long lasting blood line, the Gazzuolos have accumulated a list of things we must always remember to live by.

1. Eat plenty of pasta.
2. Eat a lot of bread.
3. Marry up.
4. Wash crown in cold water with a tablespoon of dish soap.
5. Grow a mustache at least once.

It is an easy enough list to follow. The first two insure good Italian health…round and jolly. Little known fact: Santa Clause is a Gazzuolo descendant. Obviously a break off from the Gazzuolo name, (thus explaining the gayness) but an apple from the family tree nonetheless.

The third guideline insures the king that there will be time to sit on his throne and rule his castle. The lioness does the work and the king allows her to be mounted by his excellence. The king is generous.

King Gazzuolo is also tidy. A clean crown means a clean head and a clean head…well this rule is just tradition. Oh, and I just started the 5th listing based on my father, the king’s, history and my own short history.

Lists aside, the Gazzuolo king must live on for the greater good of society, or at least for one stupid moment in many civilians lives. Gazzuolos have that goofy last name that the substitute teacher always gets stuck on. The sub then says, “I’m sorry, how do you pronounce your last name?” With a straight face the Gazzuolo replies with a statement that makes the kids laugh and substitute understand that the Gazzuolo is a little jerk.

“Smith.”