Going commando at the park

From the Evansville Courier & Press and the Meade County Messenger
By Jacob Bennett

Good thing my friend lost his glasses at Holiday World, because I lost my underwear.

I must have dropped them on the ground somewhere outside the water park locker room, right after I'd changed into my Speedos. I didn't see them fall, probably because all the nude dudes I'd just seen burned out my retinas.

Mantastic.

I never again saw my SpongeBob SquarePants boxers. The last time I'd been to Holiday World was in sixth grade, when I was too old for cartoon character underwear.

I don't often do amusement park rides, since I'm not a big fan of parks or rides or amusement. I quickly remembered why, when I was strapped into the Voyager, getting tossed around for 1.2 miles like a nuclear potato.

But at least I could see, when I opened my eyes. My poor friend, the guy who invited the wife and me to his wife's company picnic, caused a spectacle when he lost his spectacles. He needs his glasses the way planes with snakes need Samuel L. Jackson.

We'd already been battered like shrimp on the Voyage and in the wave pool, where my friend almost drowned, so we decided to take a relaxing inner tube ride ride down the Bahari River, which he kept calling the "lazy river."

When he hopped onto his tube, it flipped him like a burger into the water. His glasses washed away in the current, presumably at a relaxing pace. It was irony as sweet as a wildlife marshal getting tranqed by a monkey. "I can't believe I lost them in the lazy freakin' river, of all places," my friend said, squinting.

It was a few minutes later, as he and I and the wives retrieved our belongings from Davy Jones' locker, that I realized I was missing my SpongeBob underpants. I scanned the crowd, hoping to spy them on the ground or to catch a diabolical knickers thief returning to the scene of the crime. No dice.
"Looks like I'm going commando," I said, returning to the locker room and wading through a rolling sea of dude flesh. My friend and his wife went to the lost and found and asked if they had his glasses. They didn't, but he suggested I do the same for my man panties.

But I was too embarrassed to walk up to the counter, get the attention of a busy clerk, and whisper to him or her that I was wondering if anyone had, by chance, returned a stray pair of underwear. Much less underwear dyed to resemble a goofy, if beloved, cartoon character known for nautical nonsense. Especially since Maxim magazine said guys aren't allowed to wear cartoon boxers.

I was quiet on the ride home, wondering what happened to my unmentionables, imagining all those people, milling about, stepping over a smiling pair of yellow boxers.The answer came the next day in a phone call to my friend's wife from a co-worker who had been at the company picnic but didn't know of my loss. The answer only raised more questions, specifically: ."Why would anyone pick them up?" Her friend said, "You'll never guess what I saw hanging on the side of one of the garbage cans by the water park.
"It was a pair of SpongeBob SquarePants underwear."

Columnist Jacob Bennett be just a picture of a head at jacobmbennett@hotmail.com.

For the ladies, gettin' lucky in Kentucky

From the Evansville Courier & Press and the Meade County Messenger

By Jacob Bennett

You might not realize it, but Kentucky is a hotbed of hotness.

With George Clooney's recent second win as People magazine's "Sexiest Man Alive," the Commonwealth has four wins, more than any other state or country, making everyone else as blue as our grass.

Thoroughbreds Tom Cruise (from Louisville) and Johnny Depp (from Owensboro and some obscure island) also have the mantastic award on their man-tles.

Not to mention the 8.1 I once got on amihotornot.com.

And no Kentuckians had to do anything lame to catch People's attention, such as star in "Dirty Dancing." Just sayin', Swayze.

Although when Clooney got it the first time in 1997, he did star in "Batman and Robin," most often summed up with a head shake and the phrase "nipples on the Batsuit."

Don't feel left out, Illinois: your boy Harrison Ford was Sexiest Man Alive in 1998. No Hoosiers have been, so the state is kinda like the hot guy's best friend. In "Top Gun," Indiana would be Goose.
Even worse, in "Raiders of the Lost Ark," Indiana Jones would be played by Kentucky.

To be fair, Sexiest Man Alive is a tough brass ring to grab. I mean, Justin Timberlake couldn't get it in the year he brought sexy back.
(Speaking of sexy backs, Brad Pitt was People's sexiest living dude in 2000.)

At least People gives out the award every year, instead of wait ing until the current king is dead.Otherwise Mel Gibson, the first guy to twinkle People's eye, would still have it. You'd think there'd be a better punchline with Mel Gibson involved, but I got nothing.

But you know, if they did have an issue for Sexiest Guy Not Neccesarily Alive, I'd have to go with Michael Landon.

That's not saying that life in Kentucky is all (a run for the) roses. Except for smokin' hotness, Kentucky often finds itself in the bottom half of a lot of state rankings: School test scores, for example, or percentage of adults with bachelor's degrees, or prevention of rickets.

But now I think I know why: The bar is set so darn high, there's no point in trying. Even if your goal is just to get by on your looks, people can dismiss you with a quick, "Well, he's no two-time Sexiest Man Alive winner like Clooney."

And it's even worse if you want be judged by your actions and ideas. Who do you think is going to be remembered as Greatest Kentuckian Not Necessarily Alive--you, or Abraham Lincoln?
I mean, even if you do a fair amount of emancipating in your life, you're still not gonna be the Great one.

And even if you become president, you're still not gonna get your face on Mount Rushmore.
But there's one place Clooney got his face that Lincoln never did: People magazine's "Sexiest Man Alive" issue.

Although I'd probably put him second to Landon.

Columnist Jacob Bennett is so hot, he'll take your mother, Dorothy Mantooth, out for a nice seafood dinner and never e-mail her again from jacobmbennett@hotmail.com.

Paying for free candy with my dignity

To the people at the office who keep free candy at their desks:

You are not doing me any favors.

More importantly, you're not doing my talking scale any favors. The other day I stepped on it and it said: "Oof."

That's right. "Oof."

I believe my scale said this because I am gaining weight. Because of the candy. The candy you guys provide for me at no charge.

Don't get me wrong. This is very kind of you. If we worked at a small company, and there was only one of you kind enough to bring in fun-sized M & Ms, there would be no problems.

But we work at a large company, so three or four of you in my department have open bowls and have told me personally that it is OK if I take some. These bowls are so inviting, especially when there are Reese's peanut butter cups, or KitKats, or 3 Musketeers, or Snickers, or Hershey's Kisses, or Butterfingers, or those little square caramels.

Sweet heavens, those little square caramels.
So tasty. So inviting. So supple.

And I tell myself that I will only take a little candy, and for the most part, this is true. From each bucket. Especially when you are away from your desk and I don't have to look you in the eye.
Believe me, if you could see me, you would see shame.
Lt. Dave's jar, which is shaped like a friendly police officer, even says, "Stop! Move away from the cookie jar!"

But I've always lived on the edge.

The irony is, I only take so much because it is free.
This is the same reason I have to make several trips downstairs when the office has our monthly Free Coke Day.

In reality, all this free stuff comes with a hefty price: my dignity.
I keep saying I'll buy bags to replace them, and I really mean it, but I'm sure you don't believe that.

So the only thing I have to offer in return is my thanks.
And possibly a busted scale, if you needed one of those for any reason.

Sincerely...
Jacob Marquis Bennett

Columnist Jacob Bennett tried with an open hand and a heart of sorrow. Hoped that everything would be all right. Don't save too much lovin for tomorrow. Get out all your lovin here tonight at jacobmbennett@hotmail.com