"Please turn off or silence all cell phones...

...during class," says the kindergarten teacher.

Obviously there is a need for a 5 year old child to have a cell phone to some parents, but I will NOT be one of them. This constant need for connection and protection of children has never been more apparent than now.

Rising threats in the world? More bad things might happen? Maybe, but probably not. The fact is that everything is much more publicized through different media sources. Twit this, FB that, yes, yes, I know that kid in Oklahoma got snatched up and shoved through a wood-chipper by some psychopath. Terrible right? Preventable with a cell phone in pocket? Maybe, but probably not.

Technology is great, but where will it end? I happened to see some middle school aged kids getting of their school bus the other day. One, two, three, four, five, they all filed off the bus and almost in the same rapid secession: cell out, cell out, cell out, cell out, cell out. Each and every one was face down, hammering away at their cell phone keys like Britney's publicist. Do you think they are all just texting their parents to let them know they made it home from school safe? Maybe, but probably not.

Are you being a better parent by giving your child a cell at age 8? Maybe. Are you doing it so you can easily locate your child almost effortlessly? Most likely. Is it to keep your child safe and if so, how will it do that? Yes! Um, they can call 911 once their bagged and tagged?

Do I think my life would have been improved by having a cell phone at age 10 (even though it would have been the briefcase style in 1993)? Maybe, but probably not.

Do I think by not giving my kids cell phones until they are at least in high school will make them hate me for it? Probably........but maybe not.







Arguments can be made for both sides and I can see both perspectives, I'm just saying, it seems like the easy way out.

Fighting the depressants of alcohol and conversation...

For many of the posts of MLHF, we can commiserate about our shared habits of mediocrity whether it be lazy hygiene, lackluster eating habits, or that ever so close but oh so far away dream of grad school. Well, in this explanation of mediocrity, my low hanging fruit may be someone else’s faithful pastime. In this case I am talking about ‘going out’… you know, partying.

Here it is… Friday night. Beginning of the weekend. Time to let loose and go buck wild. Maybe start with a little happy hour and see where the night (and the buzz) takes you. To some this may seem like a blissfully easy plan. To me, the thought of this process is painful and arduous. Fighting the depressants of alcohol and conversation to end up on a sweaty dance floor in the heels I swore I would never wear again? No, thanks. I would much rather pour all of my effort into the latest Harry Potter-esque series or Disney movie that I’ve watched over a dozen times in the sweatpants that know me and my couch way too well.

So, what is my low hanging fruit? It is the effort that I put into a Friday or Saturday night that affords me to stay out just long enough to be a socially acceptable 24 year old… but still allows me to get at least half way through Monsters Inc. or a chapter into the latest, best-selling fantasy novel when I get home.

… These posts are anonymous, right?

POSTED by ANONYMOUS PERSON I KNOW WELL

Following without following: Lemming laws.

What are instincts? How do they define us? Are they learned or based solely on talent? I'd have to say it is a combination of both a learned skill and a natural ability. Sometimes, our instincts take over: for better, or, for worse.

During a recent birthday party scenario, a friend and I were attempting to make our way to the draft house to nosh on some delicious pub-grub when we found ourselves locked into some sort of strange trance.............Game over: Lemming law in full effect.




We only snapped back from our deep REM-like Lemming 'blackout', if I may, when a person in the party we'd followed outside for 6 blocks in the wrong direction reached for his car keys. Wait? What the...no....no we didn't.

"Um, you're not walking to the bar?"

'No dude. We're driving, only enough room for us though."

Feeling like a defeated loser, I tucked my tail between my legs but tried to play it off, "Oh that's cool, gotta love some fresh air, you know? You know? Ha...Ha...Ha...."


'Yeah...' Hops in car, drives way.

And cut, Lemming law in full effect...

Skinny = Healthy, Right??

I'm a 6'0'' bean pole and have weighed between 162 and 167 lbs for the past 10 years.

The most shocking part is that 4 of those years were spent chugging light beer in frat house basements. I attribute much of this to my nuclear powered metabolism (paddling frosh during rush week), but also a lot of it is from pure laziness.

You may be asking yourself, 'how can one be too lazy to perform an action upon which one's very life depends?'

Let me explain:

In order to eat, you must get up and retrieve the food. But the work doesn't end there: unwrapping, chewing, swallowing, digesting, bowel movements. Not really my modus operandi.

In the US today, we are facing an obesity epidemic largely resulting from people being too poor/lazy to eat anything that doesn't come as a processed combo meal. I have taken it a step further and just bypassed the whole calorie consumption process completely. Genius right?! I only eat when absolutely necessary, i.e. if I am about to black out from lack of energy. And what do I eat that makes me so "healthy" and skinny? Mostly an array of Poptarts, microwave Easy Mac, or boiled/refrigerated hotdogs.

So to all you lard-asses out there who can't understand why eating 5000 calories of peanut butter, oatmeal, granola, or pretty much anything considered "energy boosting" or "a great pre-workout snack" a day and aren't shedding the pounds, I encourage you to take my approach and stop reaching for any 'fruit' at all!

Sure, your arteries might look like Rosanne Barr's but your outsides will look like Lance Armstrong, and we all know it's what's on the outside that counts. Who the hell wants to be 90 anyways? Wrinkled, can't drive, and basically worthless to society....no thank you.

POSTED BY TS, the original mustache man, a superhuman to the untrained eye

Hey, get off me! I'm soaking wet!

Everyone has that certain someone around them in their life that is a huge drag. Whether it is your significant other, a friend, a friend of a friend who always seems to be around, or maybe it's a family member. Some people, such as myself, refer to these people as "wet blankets". Other names exist such as party pooper, or spoilsport, or, another personal favorite, killjoooyyyy Jenkins.

Alright, fine, I made up the Jenkins part.

Although they come in many different shapes, sizes, and personalities; they all have one characteristic in common. The one reigning characteristic of this person is their amazing ability to grab your good mood and body-slam it.

Whatever the reason this Wet Blanket has for ruining everyone else's time defeats me, but inevitably we're all effected in some way, one time or another. The amazing resolve this WB has to withstand the criticism and hatred directed towards them is quite astounding. These WB types are usually brazen enough to state their disinclination to do something in even the largest of groups.

You and 12 of your closest friends all want to see Avatar is 3D, the only way to see it (some pretty low hanging fruit plot line), but son of a bitch Wet Blanket is ruining everything. Guilt is a word unknown by the common Wet Blanket. Even though this WB may be keeping everyone from seeing the movie they want to see, they feel no remorse whatsoever. A normal human being would cave, as long as their other 11 friends were on board, and see a movie they would rather not in the name of social decency. This WB will go to extreme levels to not see this movie. They may cut themselves or punch you in the face! But most likely, they will make Avatar the worst movie watching experience of all time by their constant kvetching!! How you wish you had just seen Saw VI!

By determining these things or people in our lives that create a mediocre existence, we can better prepare ourselves for the future. My advice on ditching a WB? Lie, cheat, steal, run for the hills - but never let them win. You may bring them back from the dark side one day.....

Quarter Life Crisis: The Best Excuse Ever

Recently I ran across an article about the so-called “Quarter-Life Crisis”(QLC). Shortly thereafter I realized that I had struck gold.

I’m sure you’ve all heard of the Mid-Life Crisis, where depressed, aging, balding, fattening men go out and (depending on the severity of said crisis) buy a convertible (poor, rich, classy), dye their hair, hit the tanning salon, and maybe get some strange. The QLC is a similar existential crisis, but because it happens in your 20’s when you’re likely still poor, it manifests itself differently.

The QLC is basically a 5-year stretch in your twenties that you are allowed to achieve nothing because you’re still trying to “figure it all out”. That means that you don’t have to be working at a “career track” job, you don’t have to get engaged, and you don’t have to stop getting sloppy drunk 2-3 nights a week. It is a license to be a grown-up kid. Think of it as the after party for college.

There are a few things you need to do in order to successfully pass as a QLC sufferer, lucky for us, they’re simple and easy:

When asked about your job, say: “It’s interesting, and I’m learning a lot, but I don’t know if I can really see myself doing it forever”

When asked about further education, say: “I’d like to go to grad-school, but I’m just not sure what I want to do yet. Plus, these days, they’re recommending a 3-5 year break after undergrad.”

When asked about romantic commitment, say: “Of course I’d like to have Thanksgiving with your parents, but I’m still thinking about working on that organic farm in Ibiza in November, so I just can’t say for sure.”

General rule: The more vague you are about the next several years, the better. Use qualifiers like “might”, and “probably”. Make plenty of references to places you’d like to live and things you’d like to do before you have to “settle down”.

So, for those of you that pass the age qualifications (sorry, 29 is the absolute limit), get out there and procrastinate! After all, you’ve got nothing but time.

IVH - Bonus Apropos Second Meaning: QLC = “Que La Chinga”, or, the equivalent of WTF en español.

LMMFAO LOLWTF LTLWDLS

People, people, gather 'round. This is starting to get a little ridiculous. What has happened to our human culture? Our language? Our pride? Apparently, since the beginning of the American culture, starting back to when our country was forming, Americans have always grabbed for that low hanging fruit.

Learn to plant corn? No, no thank you. How about you plant it for us then we'll steal it from you? Oh, after we drive you out of your own land and we need to plant more? We'll just shackle some folks up and put them to work. I'm not saying we've never accomplished anything on our own, of course we have, I love this country, but we've definitely had our moments of LHF and mediocrity.

Don't worry, this post is not that serious - I'm here to talk about gchatting, texting, BBMing, AIM....you catch my drift. Now that we are so easily connected, we are starting to take advantage. Some of you may be wondering: what does LMMFAO mean? LOLWTF - you can probably figure that one out. LTLWDLS - you have got to be fucking kidding me?

LMMFAO Laughing my mother freaking a** off

LOLWTF Laughing out loud (saying) "What the f*ck?"

LTLWDLS Let's twist like we did last summer - you really are kidding me.

I'm not saying Americans are the only ones, but I'd say we definitely started this technological revolution with people like Bill Gates, Bill Joy, and Steven Jobs - or is it Stephen? Whatever. Don't know who those people are? JFGI!!

JUST FUCKIN' GOOGLE IT!

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! Or is it? We are on the dawn of a new language, a new way of existence, where we never have to even use the english language, just letters and our superior inferring skills. Some people use ebonics, some use cockney rhyming slang, but we've got our own now! Whatever this language is, it's mediocre at best. So embrace, bash it, but at least admit that's some LHF.

L8RG8R, thanks very much from MLFH, GGOH, CUNT - gotta get outta here, see you next time.

New MyLowHangingFruit man!

I would like to introduce the new MLHF icon/mascot!

As you can see, this is the extent of my Illustrator abilities, but I can't be bothered to learn anymore - this little guy is alright?

This is where YOU come in!!! I need a name: Mr. Dingleberry, Poppy Stumps, Ranchero Manchero, whatever! If no one comes up with a good one, then I'll have to put my thinking cap on.

Also - which do you prefer? Strawberry looking one or humanite?

I'm now officially a paying member of 18 gyms, 6 magazines, and countless online clubs.

Ah sweet excitement and inspiration! You come to see me so few many times and so far between each visit!

The inspiration from New Year's resolutions is sweeping the nation: gyms are packed, Muscle and Fitness subscriptions are at an all time high, and health food stores can't stock enough fish oil products (boosts the metabolism after all). Sign me up, sign me up, sign me up.

Dooo dooo dooo dooo, dooo dooo dooo, dooo dooo dooo dooo, doop, doo doo doo doo doo (repeat)

I'll be generous and say that it's Feb. 13th and holy crap, you have a girlfriend or boyfriend because you've been hitting the gym, reading Muscle and Fitness on the shitter, and shoving fish oil tablets up your butt for a month and a half.

By March 15th, you've settled in, had a sig. oth. for about 40 days or so and you know.....you start to let go a little. An extra cookie here, 'oh honey, just one more beer?' there. Did I say 3 pieces of bacon? I meant 4. Wait, 5. You've lost interest in buying toilet paper, what better use than those Muscle and Fitness mags?

I'm getting off topic, although you can look forward to a 'how you know if you've let go as a sig.oth.' post.

June 17th, it's a Monday, and Mint.com just called your fuckin' bluff. You are now officially spending a stupid amount of money each month on various products.

Gym membo: $45.99 (not counting the ghastly $100 "initiation fee" knocked down as a '1 time offer' from $32,000 - really? It's normally $32,000? Why yes, yes it is. Oh yeah, and thanks a fuckin' lot for walking me around so I can look at your love handles as you show me where the dumbbells are, thanks, I couldn't use my own eyes). You are now using the gym less than or equal to 2x a week and rreaaalllyyy getting your money's worth.

Underground Strength Coach Online Membership: remember when you want to be all bad ass and walk around with sand bags, scale buildings, and flip cars? Well I do. I've been paying $12.95 for the past 14 months to be a member of a website I've literally looked at 12 times.

Magazine Subscriptions: no longer do you read these, they just add to the mag-basket than EVERYONE has - don't you deny it! $$ go bye byes!

Fish oil: by now, your fish oil tablets are sticking together and bursting because you left them in your gym bag in the back of your car, which by the way, has been sitting there since May 17th, exactly a month since the last time you visited the gym.

Apparently, canceling memberships is way more difficult than quitting the marching band in high school. "Fuck you Ms. Kozlopolis, the flute is for nerds and sissies. I'm over it." Letters? Proof of address change? SSN? Damnnnnnnnnnn boyyyyyyy, that shit seems like a lotta work.




Another 3 or 4 months drags on, your gut inflating steadily, and your wallet draining in exact correlation with your flabbo stommo - weird.










Fuck it, I'll get to canceling those tomorrow, or next week, or.......whatever.....

MyLowHangingFruit Shopping Tip #1

Wrinkle-Free Dress Shirts

In the world of MyLowHangingFruit, I’m sure we can all agree that clean laundry is a rarity. We all know that denim and t-shirts never actually get dirty (“what, that? It’s a stain. Adds character”). I’m not sure if there is a single article of clothing currently in rotation, aside from boxers*, that I wear only once before washing. I don’t own any regularly worn dry-clean only garments.

There is, however, one common use garment that requires more than a cursory amount of work: dress shirts. I got my first office job about a year ago, and the dress code is business casual. I usually rock khakis, decent shoes, and a button down collared shirt (no tie, there is a God). For the first month or two, I was forced to launder my work clothes at least once a week (!).

For obvious reasons, something had to be done.

That’s when I came across wrinkle-free shirts. And that’s when my life returned to normal. I own seven of them now, and I can honestly say that I only wash them once a month. At most. That equates to about four, eight-hour shifts between cleanings saving me probably a solid hour of work every week.

All this being said, one has to be careful not to push the envelope. I have a white one that, sadly, discolors around the collar after repeated abuse during the warmer months. So if you were looking for more longevity, I’d stick to patterned fabric, which will realistically last another couple of shifts.

The small initial price premium is well worth the reduction in menial work over the lifetime of the shirt.

*Wellllll, Nobody’s perfect.

posted by IVH - I should probably just move back in with my mom, then I wouldn't have these problems

Happy Fuckin' New Year To You Too

Sweet! It's new year's eve! It's time to get crunked up, dance my ass off, and slam my tongue down someone's throat.

But no, first, let's deal with some corporate bullshit! YAY!

New year's eve is the most hyped up party night of the year, but you know what? It always fuckin' sucks. This night is run by a bunch of commercial, thieving, greedy bastards attempting to fit too many people, not enough drinks, and lines for everything into one place; then, charge WAY too much for it.

Oh boy, here you go, it's 9 PM and you and all your friends just finished getting ready. Time to paaaarrrtttaaaayyyyyyy bitches! By this time, you've had 2-4 drinks, depending how much of a booze hound you are.

Time to get a cab, which as we all know, is a huge pain in your whiskey lovin' ass on NYE. Full....full....full....full....YES got one! Of course you get into the poetry writing taxi man's little yellow open mic night. Did I mention he drives slower than my grandmother and has as much road presence as a 4 year old little girl on a pink Barbie bicycle?

Oh well, the cab ride from hell is over - let's fuckin' do this, gonnnnnnaaaa ggeeet mmmyyy sweeeeerrrvvvveeeee onnnnn. So you roll up to the destination, with your pimp walk going - WHAT THE SHIT IS THIS?

_____________________15.mins______________________________________30. mins_______________________45.mins_You, Friend, Friend, Friend__________60.mins_____________________________1 hr 15 mins

45 minutes later....we're in. Well, I guess that wasn't so bad, except my sweet buzz is gone so let's grab a beverage. Oh wait, there's a line for that. 15 minutes go by and you're finally sucking back a watered down vodka soda. By the time you finish that drink, the wait to get a drink is now over 20 minutes. So now it's getting later, you lost your buzz, can't get a drink, and any chance of being drunk by midnight is out the window.

You're pissed off, have half a goddamn hangover, and midnight is quickly approaching - bail now or stick it out?

OUT OF ALCOHOL? Out of alcohol? Really? Dude, screw this, let's go somewhere else - LINE, let's go somewhere else - LINE, then midnight passes...........while you're in a taxi.......let's champagne toast with Ali Baba.

You end up heading home 20 minutes past midnight and SLAM DOWN whatever alcohol you have..................(night over)..........

So, let's see, I spent over $150, spent more time bitching about the situation than "getting crunked up, dancing my ass off, and slamming my tongue down someone's throat", and I STILL WAKE UP WITH A HANGOVER. FML.

The thing about new year's eve and about 98% of its organizer don't give a FLYING FUCK, they are giving a half ass, greedy, low down effort and you're gettin' the shit end of the stick.

Now that sounds like some low ass hangin' fruit to me.

Starbucks Seductress, shorty, what have you drank?