Please….shut up already, you leech, you vampire, you succubus. I can feel you draining all of my optimistic soul with your chronic complaining and pessimism. Yes life is a struggle, I get it. Just stop talking about how miserable your life is and DO something about it.
I have my own issues to contend with. I’m making positive strides forward, then you come along with your black cloud of mope and despair overcasting my day. Fortunately, I have one of those pro golf sized “mental umbrellas” to keep me dry from your gale force tirades of drama. Spare me your relationship episodes, you’re not David Duchovny on Californication. I could care less about how your wife emasculates you….wait, what did you call it, “she’s assertive and likes wearing the pants” so instead of watching the playoffs Sunday afternoon, you’re down at the flea market shopping for discounted trinkets and bootleg romantic comedy dvd’s.
The next person to attempt to trample one of my good spirited days with their “cup is almost empty” demeanor, deserves a Rick James to Charlie Murphy open handed slap. Seriously. I’m on a mission. Because your train derailed, you want to plant bombs on my tracks? If life is sooooo bad, give up. Stop trying. Kill yourself. More food for us. Still here? Pussy…or is it that your life isn’t that bad afterall huh?
The next step isn’t so easy. Depressing people travel in packs, infecting others like a virus adding to the collective. You have got to break away from the other crabs if you want to change your mindset. And don’t think they won’t notice. “why’d you stop calling? oh, you too good to hang with us now? Hey I just wrecked my car for the 3rd time can I get a ride? Hey girl, so and so was talking about you. I just wanted to let you know. What’s up man, I just quit my bullshit job. Naw, I ain’t got nothing lined up just yet tho…mind if I hang out for a few days?”
Good luck escaping. If you did manage to escape, your circle is extremely smaller now isn’t it? Google+ won’t be happy (lol if you don’t get that it’s ok, the joke wasn’t for you).
I had an intellectual discussion with a good friend of mine last night until 3am. It’s amazing what conversations stem from Grand Marnier and blue mist hookahs….I digress, where was I? One topic involved goals, aspirations, and the means to reach them. Have you met yours? what prevented you? what’s stopping you now? At what point do you concede? the conclusion obviously, is that the infrastructure of any goal you set forth is planning. Then it hit me like a ton a bricks. 35-40% of the people I knew, didn’t plan for shit. Most of them are already out of my life, the few remaining handful will probably become case studies for this blog in the near future.
It’s 2012 people. time to become extremely independent and get off the teat. Bad things will happen soon. PLAN AHEAD.(damn have I been infected by the cynics?) Time to develop some survivalist skills just in case of some post apocalyptic scenario. I recommend the three H’s. Hunting, Horticulture and Whoring…yes yes I know, I know. It was just fun to say.
Through playing with y’all.
I had a bit of an epiphany in the gym this morning. It dawned on me that most people go their entire lives without realizing what their very own bodies are physically capable of. It’s funny to me. Mainly because in my youth, I was literally thin as a walking stick. Had it not been for that fateful day in Chicago at the Naval base, where I (a basketball fanatic) was dunked on by a semi pro player.
That pivotal moment changed me. Angered and blinded by the fact that someone broke through my defense, I subbed out and left the court…right into the weight room. while the 1st two years were a clueless waste of time, the next 13 years became a campaign to become bigger and stronger. Years of muscle sprains, tendinitis, deep tissue massages, and gallons of protein later, here I am remaining steadfast on my personal crusade to be the fittest I can be.
But not most people….the average person doesn’t think about it until a really fit person walks up next to them and then they realize “oh shit, that person is my age”. Then there’s the moment of self-pity. The envy lasts a bit longer but that too is quickly forgotten as soon as the “hot and fresh doughnuts” sign lights up at Krispy Kreme.
The human body is literally a Transformer. (Hasbro should pay me for plugging them)
It’s astounding the amount of resiliency and strength it has. It can be shaped and molded, made stronger, faster. It can endure miles and miles of running or tons and tons of weight lifting. Each and every person has their very own machine to tweak and customize as they see fit, but 89% of you don’t….okay I made that number up, but so what it’s probably higher. It’s the equivalent of taking a Ferrari and letting it sit for years exposed to the elements.
What’s it like?
Trying this diet plan and that diet pill….starving yourself to squeeze into a dress you know damn well you shouldn’t have purchased. Doing push ups before you head out to the beach to give the illusion that you work out on a regular basis. I’ll bet you 20 bucks you’ve got a guy at work that arches his back when he walks as if to imply his chest is huge.
Delusions of fitness never gets old. Promising yourself to exercise but that day never comes, or wearing sleeves so tight your hands turn blue. So what does it take to get motivated and embrace a fit healthy lifestyle?
1. you must WANT it. badly…a 6 month diet plan is going to crash like Denzel Washington in “Flight”.
2. Self Evaluate. look at yourself realistically, and honestly. Then set a goal. and just like building a house you’re gonna need blueprints to make that goal happen. You will need a professional at this point. Find a certified licensed trainer. You will only need him/her for about 4-6 months tops. listen and do everything they tell you, then rinse and repeat on your own.
3. Educate yourself in health and exercise. I’m mean really learn. Chances are your doctor doesn’t know a damn thing about fitness. Remember he’s getting paid to sell you his skill set and medicine.
4. Take a nutrition class. Trust me, when you learn that you truly are what you eat, you’ll stop huffing down pancakes, doughnuts and cookies.
5. Kinesiology, the study of human movement. When you know how your body works once and for all, you will laugh at those infomercials trying to sell you a “gutbuster 3000″ and the people that buy them.
Extend your life/livelihood. Take care of your body as you would your car, house, your lawn….or whatever you deem of value and importance to you. God willing, working out and pushing my body to it’s limits will continue be a staple in my life, as much as breakfast and sex. And I’m certainly not trying to give up either of the two anytime soon.
Train hard. Indulge later.
2010 is over. Thank God. It’s been a rollercoaster ride from hell, from natural disasters to the ongoing ever present recession, things have not been nice (putting it mildly). Nevertheless tonight, err….tomorrow begins a new year, new beginnings, new chances, new opportunities and for a lot a people, new resolutions.
I can tell my age is catching up to me. Because this year, my resolution is so far removed from the norm, it signifies the next step in my learning process. my own personal maturation in life. Or to repeat what my wife says “my Buddhist Monk” like ways.
As much as our President has touted change, I fear there will be none. At least not in our lifetime or not in the manner in which we expect. And that got me to thinking….why? Really, why can’t we change? As a whole, once we reach adulthood most people are set in their ways like super glued concrete shoes, only changing when traumatic events unfold.
Children are full of creativity and ideas that are unrestricted by boundaries and prejudices. Children can provide the change we need to TRULY make this world a better place. It starts at home, in your neighborhoods, in your cities. Stop dashing your child’s dreams. Give them positive reinforcement all of the time. Support their goals. Teach them. They are apt to learn life quicker from you than from a stranger in the form of public schooling.
My New Year’s resolution? To inspire all youth. Whenever and wherever I can.
Think for a second if we all did that, what would begin to transpire. So instead of trying to lose 10lbs off your fat ass in a gym program that you won’t stick with, why not volunteer at a local Boy’s and Girl’s club? Or start a tutoring program? There’s also Big Brothers/Sisters programs.
I can’t be the only person who can see that as a whole, adults have failed miserably. It’s time to hit the reset button and give our children a chance to right our wrongs.
What’s YOUR New Year’s Resolution?
I feel you Aretha. Without respect, a man isn’t one. Lack of it will always lead to a disastrous conclusion. Me? I’d take respect over fame and money anything day of the week.
So. What exactly is the correct path to follow when there’s a personal affront to your manhood? Wisdom dictates removing yourself from said situation. Easy if the assailant is a complete stranger, not so easy if you’ve known the individual for awhile and their viewpoint of you has changed for whatever reason. A little tougher if it’s a long time friend or family member.
Yeah, you can communicate and talk about it, but since no one’s budging, you’re back to square one. This is why brothers don’t speak to one another for 15 years a pop, or cousins only visit every other holiday. It also affects marital bliss.
So what do you do, when you are bred with a ceiling-less pride and taught to be respectful and expect it always? When the nuclear arms talk fail utterly, and war is imminent…what do you do?
It comes down to our primal responses: Fight or Flight. I’m not speaking a “physical” fight (not this time). But a fight aimed at getting the respect you deserve. Or do you take a hit to your manhood, the very core structure of who you are, and concede?
……and I ain’t about to write a damn song asking for it either.
Food has become the new drug of choice, and the percentage of overweight/obese Americans is staggering. Some medical polls have that number as high as 63%…wow. A nation of people hooked on food, like heroin addicts needing a fix.
Does anyone eat for sustenance anymore? I mean c’mon, isn’t food meant to be eaten to survive? Not anymore…if it ain’t smothered covered chopped scattered topped and peppered it ain’t right. Ever see a toddler refuse oatmeal because there isn’t enough sugar and butter in it? We are setting our children up for failure. Who in their right mind gives a baby a crack pipe?
It’s the same addiction.
“No Dennis it’s not the same”, STFU and listen…stop setting your kids up for diabetes and other food borne ailments. Think about this: Some of you might be lactose intolerant. That means that your body has decided its had enough of a substance meant to nourish babies. Do you think there are any lactose intolerant people in Somalia or any Russians with peanut allergens?
Can someone explain to me why the government body known as the FDA hasn’t stepped in to curb this food nonsense. Oh that’s right…money. Marketing and media food gurus entice you like drug dealers. “yeah that burger I made you last time, it’s nothing… nothing…nothing…..compared to this burger. This burger right here, we call it “the whole cow”. You won’t have to eat for weeks.
Bigger, richer, fluffier, greasier, more decadent, more seasoned….mmmm taste all this flavor. And you have the nerve to wonder why you need liposuction. You can’t have it both ways. You can’t be a glut AND look good.
Yet I’m the freak because I’m in my 40′s, workout like it’s my religion and eat healthy. And then there’s the questions: What do you do, how do you do it? My answer: I have the willpower to avoid Dairy Queen’s XXL Blizzard shakes and the fact that ever single day I wake up, I think to myself I can be better. My competitive streak fuels me when my energy runs low. I simply refuse to look like “that guy”.
I think I may have the solution. Put an end to serviced foods and grocery stores. That’s right, no more restaurants or grocery stores. No more convenience.
Kinda lose your appetite when you think of having to hunt and kill your own food huh?
Mmm…venison steaks anyone?
Any other day, I’d bypass this subject and wouldn’t think twice about it. I’m sitting at home sick as a dog, channel surfing. I see the Tyra Banks Show (re-runs obviously) about women loving men with big bellies. And then the subject was broached on Facebook. So I have to ask ladies…REALLY?
Because I heard a lot of lies. lies. lies. Maybe it was to save face, or maybe it was the fact that they no longer consider their lover’s body part of the equation of love. Maybe it’s all about the dollars and to hell with the body. I don’t know, I’m just trying to gain a little perspective.
See…I know without a shadow of doubt that some women don’t like skinny guys. I used to be just that. Being skinny as a rail, trying to talk to a dimepiece is a futile attempt no matter what your charming smile or winning looks have done for you in the past. Some women don’t roll that way. They want a physical man who can handle himself and be able to bring food to the table. I get that.
But beer bellies? I’m heavily into the gym/fitness thing and I am a pretty sizable guy. At 42 years old, 232lbs, I still have no gut. Am I to believe, I’d lose out to the fat guy at the end of the bar with a bucket of Natural Light beer? To quote the fictional senator Clay Davis from HBO’s the Wire, “shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.”
Muscle>Fat everyday, all day.
Guys, PLEASE do not fall into this sitcom reality TV show/facebook tomfoolery. Get your asses in the gym. Nevermind what women think….ok scratch that(what was I thinking), consider your own health for a minute. Abdominal obesity can kill you (indirectly). Not to mention affecting the lead in your “pencil”. It’s a sure sign that your estrogen levels are rising. And I’m hoping I don’t have to break THAT one down to you.
Our abs are quite useful. When you find them again, you can email me and thank me for getting rid of your back pain and improving you sex life. Abs act as a stabilizer for your torso and a gyroscope for your….hell, if you didn’t know all this time, you might be outta luck on the latter.
Ladies (just the ones that like big men), tell your man the truth, yes you want a big man for the comfort and joys of life. One that can also handle himself and protect you. A guy that can be that “blanket” you want. You don’t want a guy who runs around making jokes about his “tool shed”. Encourage your big man to go walking, ease him into the cardio. Before you know it, he’ll be able to “see” himself again and won’t have to reach blindly for it.
Am I too harsh? Probably. Am I an insensitive ass? Definitely. Listen I know there are conditions which prevent some men from exercising and/or eating right. To those guys, I’m sorry…this isn’t meant for your eyes. I’m strictly referring to those 30-40 somethings who are fully ambulatory yet down kegs of beer at happy hour, talking about “yeah I’m gonna start working out again”. Meanwhile their wives and girlfriends are on the Tyra Banks Show talking about, “Tyra, my big bellied man is putting it down”.
In less than 12 hours I’ll age another year, and yet I am completely unfazed. All the rhetoric surrounding birthdays is designed to do what exactly? The cakes, the parties, the sheer drunkeness (if that’s your kind of thing) is supposed to be a celebration of life? Or…is all the fanfare and festivities just a mere distraction from what you should be doing. Self evaluation. a gut check. I like to think of birthdays as milestone markers where I take out my compass and see what direction in life I’m headed in.
My friends think that I become a somber cynical rattlesnake the days surrounding my birthday. The truth… my eyes are wide open to everything. In my deepest moments of self reflection, I see things from an “outside looking in” standpoint where I become super critical of myself and the world as I see it. All the facades, all the bs we normally take on the chin, all the societal dances that we do, all fade away for me during this time. I gotta tell you, it’s all funny as hell. Straight up comic relief. I can’t help but to laugh at the lengths we go through. Why? to get a job? to get a date? to get the respect you deserve? to be someone else’s idea of a “good” person? Every year, I take a step away from the “norm”. And when I look back, I say to myself, “what the hell was I thinking?!”
Man, why couldn’t I have had this mentality 20 years ago? We all say it, Hindsight is 20/20. I’ve actually come to realize that wouldn’t have been a good move for me. I know now that it was, and still is the journey not the destination, that’s where all the fun stuff happens. The path lesser walked. Google maps ain’t gonna get me there.
This upcoming year I’m going off-road. See ya in 2010.
PS. Shout outs to the drunken Christmas carolers of Middleburg, Florida. FYI, ghetto rednecks, booze and a tortured version of “Silent Night” is not a good look. lmfao. WHO FRIGGIN CAROLS THESE DAYS?!? I should add…with sincerity. I still love you guys tho…
I’m really trying hard to be as unbiased as I possibly can when I say this: Ladies…desperation is not a good look. I should probably elaborate a bit more, “being desperate in getting a man” is not a good look. Yeah, I know there are guys who are just as desperate, but I’m not one of them and I’ll be damned if I hang around those losers, so I ain’t writing about them…yet.
I can smell it you know. No, not that Dolce & Gabanna you’re wearing or it’s Avon equivalent, the desperation. Seeping outta your pores like next day tequila. That 4th quarter hurry up offense to score…A woman’s game clock, it’s a shame there’s no overtime…. Ovaries, apparently are like time bombs. You gotta use em before they explode. Huh, who knew?
Whenever I’m out socially, I get that look. You know the look I’m referring to: that extra linger-look away-then look again-smile look. It’s THAT look men love to get. It brings back that untainted school boy in all of us. That “yeah, I’m the sh*t” feeling.
However, It’s the wild eyed, “I haven’t had any sleep because I can hear my Fallopian tubes cracking” that scares the bejesus out of men.
I had a T-Pain experience at Chili’s the other day. Hanging with the guys, killing the 2 for 1 all night drinks specials when the bartender says “a lady is buying you a drink”. Cool, I turn down nothing but my collar…
It happened in slow motion (at least for me it was). I saw the approach, I saw the smile, I saw the switch in her hips that screamed “I’M FERTILE, I NEED A MAN, I NEED BABIES”. Then I saw the look of disgust when she caught the light’s reflection from my tungsten carbide diamond wedding band. It was like someone had messed up her $85 dollar perm. She wasn’t even cordial when I offered to return the favor. Maybe it was the walk of shame back to her table or the giggling schoolboys that my friends turned into.
Most of all, I’m sure it was the disappointment. I felt bad for her in a sense. She looked weathered/tired in the dating game. You know how desert travelers see mirages and get that burst of excitement and energy only to find out it’s nothing there? Yeah, like that.
What can you do? As long as we have the genetically encoded primal need to procreate there will always be trials in finding a mate. That goes for both men and women, but its just funnier to me when women have to do “the walk of shame”. Divine retribution? maybe.