Five Reasons I’m Upset with Matthew McConaughey

Some of you may think this blog is out of place on a forum dedicated to chronicling the misadventures of a want-a-be gym rat, but I assure you it is not.

Remember, this blog is all about health in every form.  That includes ocular health, dental health (note to self: make appointment), physical health, emotional health (note to self: cry tomorrow), audio-visual health.

You get the picture.

Included in all these health denominations is “body image,” or “the health of self-perception.”

To discuss my own body image issues, I’d like to tell you the top 5 reasons I’m upset with Matthew McConaughey.

(Editors note: Matthew McConaughey will now be abbreviated as “MM” because the author cannot accurately spell his name with any consistency)

#5: He makes movies that I’d naturally star in.

Yes, you read that correctly.  You see, MM has this wonderful inability to act.  I liken it to my own inability.  I can play one character: the dumb guy.  Casting me as a physicist would be like casting Denise Richards as a physicist (subtle commentary on Bond Girl choices intentional).

But I’m an idiot.  Ask Rhonda; she’ll agree.  I would have been perfect, PERFECT in Dazed and Confused.  Granted, I’ve never done drugs and wasn’t born in the 70’s, but if you’re looking for someone to come up with perfectly stupid one liners that are slightly misogynistic, I’m your guy.

Usually, though, I don’t say them, I just think them, laugh, and then remind myself that I’m not a misogynist.

However, if you wanted to pay me to say them…

Or, take his character in Failure to Launch.  Now, I’ve never seen this movie.  I refuse to pay good money for crap unless I need to fertilize my lawn (double joke because I don’t have a lawn).  But the idea of someone sticking it out in their parents house simply because they don’t want to pay for the costs of life?  I was made for that role!  I don’t think I’ve bought a sweater myself since…well, never!  My mother is perfectly good at shopping, so while she’s out she picks up her self-sufficient, over 30 son a sweater.

Nothing wrong with that.

The problem, though, is that MM has essentially filled the gap that I would fill were he not in Hollywood.

#4: He can wear turtle necks and not look like a turtle.

Have you seen U-571?

Don’t.  Craptastic movie.

If given the choice between that and Titanic, I’ll take the half-dead whistle girl floating on a piece of door any day.

But one thing I learned about MM from that movie is that he looks good in a turtle neck.

Me?  I look like someone has squeezed a toothpaste tube from the end, causing it bulge in the middle and poke just a little bit out the neck of the tube.

When I wear a turtle neck, it looks as if my face is coming up for a gasp of air, planning to return to its cavernous middle any second.

In short: I look like a turtle.

It’s not fair, really.  I mean, perhaps I need a pair of suspenders.  That really does make the outfit, I guess.  But I’m afraid that if I put on suspenders it’ll just look like I’ve built an elastic cage over my torso to keep in my gut.

It’s clear I cannot win.

If I go another lifetime without seeing him prove his turtleneck wearing abilities, it’ll be too soon.

#3: MM has abs.

I don’t.

Or, if I do, they’re shy.

#2: MM seemingly has no inherent talent, and yet gets paid anyway.

I’m not afraid of hard work.  But, if given the choice between being a talentless chump who gets paid and the most amazing artist that ever lived but never made a cent (I’m looking at you lead singer of Chumbawumba), pass me the McConaughey gene.

I mean, seriously!

Growing abs is not a talent.  Making crappy movies says more about the general public than you.

Watching him act is like watching a one legged dog try to pee: sad and hilarious at the same time.

And yet, he’s making huge bucks while I’m typing away at a three year old laptop whose mouse pad is so worn I can almost see the circuits beneath it.

I know God allows the sun to shine on the good and bad alike (Matt 5:45), but why can’t that sunshine illuminate for the rest of the world the hilarity of MM’s acting chops?!

I wouldn’t pay a garbage man who didn’t know what garbage was.  I wouldn’t pay an accountant if she couldn’t add.  Why, oh why, are people lining up to pay MM when a cardboard cut-out with abs and a turtleneck would do?

Am I crazy here?

Finally, #1…He prevented his hair loss.

Years ago MM had a choice.

I know it, because I saw it with my own eyes on a late-night talk show.

MM was losing his hair.  He looked good in a turtleneck, had abs, was getting paid to do nothing, and was filling a huge gap in the Hollywood “dumb-guy” scene.

But he was losing his hair.

When the host questioned him about it, you know what his response was?

“Well, something was happening, so I decided to do something about it.”

What?!  What, pray tell, did you do MM?!

How can you have lovely golden locks now when just years before your scalp looked like the remnants of a leper colony?

Rogaine (TM)? Hair Club for Men? A wig? Transplant?

You know what, I don’t care.  You know why?

Because no matter what you did, I won’t do it.  Not only because I undoubtedly could not afford it (some of us don’t get paid to be talentless…)

Because I don’t really care.

But see, you had a choice.  You could have been a spokesperson for the follicly challenged.  You could have been a standard bearer, albeit a dumb one, for those of us whose heads shine like the top of the Chrysler building (Annie reference).

But, no.  You went the route of vanity.  And now we’re stuck with an aging Bruce Willis whose wife left him for a younger guy with lots of hair who makes stupid camera commercials.

We’re also stuck with Patrick Stewart who, while a nice enough guy, is not a sex symbol unless you use “beam me up” lines to pick up strangers in lonely, lonely bars.

See MM, you coulda been somethin’ great!

Now…now you’ll go to your grave a turtleneck wearing, abs sportin’, dumb-guy playing actor with hair.

I know, that doesn’t sound that bad…

But, I have at least two things on you.

First, I don’t have to pay for shampoo.


OK, I have one thing on you.