The Pessimist, the Cynic, and the Ne’er Do Well
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.
Ain’t Life A Niche…
Overzealous, overconfident, overactive, and today…..over reaching. I’m the biggest advocate of stepping out of the box, breaking away from the norm and doing or being different. That said, we each have our own roles to play in life. Our own talents, our own gifts. Our very own little niche.
I know, (as much as I loathe to admit it) I cannot be everything to everyone. The sky IS the limit, but the ugly truth is that the ceiling varies for different people. My gifts, my creativity, my talents will only get me so far. Your talents may or may not get you farther or faster. Everyone has a cap. I will never work for NASA, be a chemical engineer, or a college math professor. Why? Because I absolutely detest math and anything of its ilk. Besides…it’s a right brain function, and we all know artists (the left brain users of the world) can’t stand prolonged use of the right side. It just isn’t natural to us.
So I’m just gonna do me. All the things that I’m good at, my special niche in life: writing, fitness, counseling, electronics, computers, photography, fighting, loving, drinking and hell raising. and not necessarily in that order.
(did me taking an exam really just snap me outta my writer’s block?) Hallelujah, I’m back!
Full Circle
So.
Here we are.
2011.
There is war, hate and distrust EVERYWHERE. WTF happened? Why is there so much damn unrest and violence in the middle east? I guess if I want to understand it, I’ll have to go back. Waaaaaaay back….
Flashback to the Crusades for a moment. The Crusades were a series of religiously sanctioned military campaigns, waged by much of the Roman Catholic church, particularly the Franks of France (wow, the French have been dicks longer than I thought) and the Roman Empire. The crusades to restore Christian control of the Holy Land were fought over a period of nearly 200 years, between 1095 and 1291. Hundreds of thousands of people were killed. Stop drinking the kool-aid for a second and ask yourself this: If your church said “hey, we have beef with 1st Baptist on Main street. we’re gonna go over there and show them who’s the better church”. Could you resort to that kind of violence?
Question. Would you kill for your religion? Would you vow to physically wipe out all other religions? could you get your hands dirty, and wring someone not of your faith’s neck? Because that’s essentially what happened during the Crusades when Christians decided that, “hey you know what, we want Jerusalem back”. (secretly, they still do.) I didn’t realize the Catholics were so aggressive like that.
I wish someone could give me a definitive answer as to why Christians and Muslims have been at war since the dawn of man. (and please don’t comment with any racist bullshit either , I don’t wanna hear it). It doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. I am by far, NOT a conspiracy theorist but it kinda makes you wonder. The Catholic religion has a government (the vatican). It’s recognized as a country and international law. Look at the bigger picture for a moment….a country that has militarized weaponry.
It’s been said that absolute power, corrupts absolutely. Here’s probably why that phrase was coined.
The Catholic church was getting it’s freak on. Sixtus IV was the first Pope to impose a license on brothels and a special tax on priests who kept a mistress (the IRS should probably look into this). Pope Alexander VI was….how can I put this lightly? A Ho. He had seven children by at least two mistresses. Fourteen years after his death, the corruption of the papacy that Pope Alexander VI exemplified – particularly the sale of hookers – prompted Martin Luther (no, not the black one) the Protestant leader of that era, to launch the Protestant Reformation. Around that timeframe, we got a bible makeover. the King James version.
Nope. I’m not making any of this up. Please. Google it. THE CATHOLIC CHURCH SANCTIONED PROSTITUTION.
Wow…I’m getting off track, this started off as one thing and has evolved into something for another time. Where was I? Oh yeah, corruption.
“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.” Sound familiar? If not, you failed history miserably and you need to bone up on the US Constitution. What’s funny about this, is that politicians have started ingratiating religion back into politics and as a country of diversity, how can you inject your personal beliefs into laws meant to govern that melting pot of ethnicity? You can’t. Unless you have an agenda.
What’s the one thing that all countries have? That crosses borders, race, social,economic, political status? Religion. what better way to unite the world under one roof. It also brings about a form of control…all under one roof. Let’s recap: religion = control. Control the individual, control the country.
Fast forward to the present:
Egypt, Bahrain, and now Libya all of a sudden erupt into hotbed of chaos. Why now? Is no one looking behind the scenes on this. Are we REALLY going to fall for the “smoke and mirror” fascist dictator trick again? Those people have lived that way for CENTURIES. and now “Hey you know what? I want a democracy”. riiiiight.
Once there is a democracy in the Middle East the world will end as we know it. Call it checkmate.
the Crusades have a new name. The New World Order
Round and round we go.
Resolute Ideas
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.
Our only chance is our children.
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?
Bittersweet November
Well now….I think I’m most certainly convinced without a shadow of doubt that our country is nowhere near being out of the “recession” and things are steadily declining.
Why? Because two weeks ago I lost my job due to downsizing. I was numb at first. Kind of in a haze for a week or two. Then oddly enough, I started feeling better. As if a weight was lifted? I don’t know, I can’t explain it. I am still sorting through it, but outside of the financial hit, I feel great.
I think I must be imagining things, because this morning when I looked in the mirror some gray hairs had receded and that monkey on my back, crashing those tambourines in my ear wasn’t there.
I now enjoy my pumpkin spiced coffee on the porch without gulping it down, while watching my rottie do his business near (in) my neighbor’s yard (what? her cats shouldn’t be on my Z ,but it happens). I think it’s safe to say, I will end out this year ABSOLUTELY stress free.
2011 will be another thing altogether….My resumé is shining, but I don’t even know if I want to remain in the same field. Hell, I don’t know if I want to remain in the same country while this mess is going on. However, as always I’ll persevere and look good while doing it.
If I was of the superstitious lot, I’d say November is a bad month for me considering what happened last November, but I’m not. This is most definitely a blessing in disguise. My path has been lain out in front of me. I just need to uncover it.
Now where’s that damn leaf blower?
R.E.S.P.E.C.T
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.
NEVER.
……and I ain’t about to write a damn song asking for it either.
Defining Moments
Hmph. Ok, so I googled myself today. Well, I actually googled my site today and I gotta say I’m a little miffed right now. There seems to be a lot of “alpha male” how to’s and do it yourself kinda sites….and of course being curious, I checked out a few of them. And I was mildly surprised at what I found.
Has it really gotten so bad that lame guys have to write books about how to pick up women? Wow. I kinda feel bad for them in a sense. All this “how to be an alpha male”…how to walk, talk, and act like one to score chicks. You ARE kidding me, right?
Alright let me clarify something real quick. Lames, please take note, (get your #2 pencils out).
BEING ALPHA HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH WOMEN, YOU JACKASSES….. Being Alpha comes down to respect, leadership and your ability to maneuver in any given situation. Other men see it and give deference to it or challenge it . It’s never been about women. That’s just a side benefit that we gloat in the faces of the loser. Think of it as a “look what I have and you don’t and if you get one , I can easily take it away from you” kinda thing.
No manual is going to teach that. Deep down in your heart , you will still be lame. Let me expound upon that for a sec.
LAME: a characteristic of an individual who puts forth no effort in life, one who succumbs to his defeats. someone who sits idly by and waits dependently. a person lacking confidence, self esteem, and self- dignity….anyone buying a book to pick up women.
And not to besmirch women, (because they have their own catty thing going on that we can only scratch at the surface of), but they generally like a man’s three “P” abilities. Provide, Protect, Procreate. There is nothing you can tell me that doesn’t come full circle into this. Try me….I haven’t had to teach a class in awhile. Any mature adult male knows this whether he admits it or not.
It’s easy as breathing. It’s something I’m not even aware of most times. It’s how I think on a subconscious level (hence, the title of this blog). I won’t go so far as to say you have to be born with it…and money certainly won’t empower you with it either.
You have it or you don’t. Deal with it and move on. Stop speaking in baritone when you’re really an alto, quit copycatting and be yourself. Give up the books on how to get laid and focus on your self respect and dignity. Maybe then will a woman of grace give you the time of day.
Just do you.
Facebook, Episode 2 (the awakening)
So….we are still piling terabytes of personal data into facebook servers. Guess what? It’s learning. Of course not like Skynet (Google and Apple will merge later to form that), but Facebook is evolving to become one large interactive advertisement that you create. Look, see that section of interests, hobbies, likes and dislikes you just told the world about? Marketing companies have complete dossiers on millions of people. For free….well maybe not free. Facebook execs are making billions off the info.
All in the name of social media. “Social media” uses web based tech to turn communication into interactive dialogues. Any of you had an FB friend go rogue on you yet? It starts out friendly and platonic, then one day a weird post shows up on your wall and you’re not quite sure what to make of it and ignore it. That’s your interactive dialogue for you. Some crazy possessive nutjob now knows you like moo shu pork on wednesdays at PF Chang’s and like to chill at Sahara’s hookah bar on Friday’s. Time for you to go off the grid…
Hey! It’s your birthday! you just had 600 people wish you happy birthday, yet you’re home alone miserable with no presents. 6 out of the 600 are genuine. Why? because they’re family, the rest just got a notification and they felt compelled to click on the link. They could care less about how old you are.
Hey, you know those games you play on Facebook? Every single one of the them asks your permission to bypass all the the security protocols put in place. Didn’t read ANY of the agreement page before clicking accept did you moron? Nope, but your farmville cows need hay don’t they and daylight’s burning. Farmville will be the death of someone…..wait wait wait, it already is. Click the link for more details. Girl kills baby for interrupting farmville
That is the saddest thing I’ve heard all year……..
I’m totally convinced. Humanity has reached it’s apex. It’s all downhill now. Some of us have slipped down the slope of demise, despair and degradation a little quicker than others. Is it Facebook’s fault? Nah….but it certainly doesn’t take away from the insanity of instant communication.
I want to deactivate my account soooo badly! But, I choose to take advantage of the wonderful marketing arena and advertising whirlygig that is Facebook. Hell…half of you got to this site via FB. Can’t be all bad, can it?
Garlic crabs in a barrel
After a discussion about racial stereotypes with an old friend of mine (sup Anthony G.), I think I’m more irritated than usual today.
It’s hard enough to deal with hidden agendas and the proverbial knife in the back, but when you’re forced to endure the “crabs in the barrel” attitude from your own people, it really stops you in your tracks and makes you take a hard look at society, culture and regional environments….or maybe, that’s just me.
The Mason-Dixon line isn’t the only line drawn that some southerners secretly take pride in. Economic status, has always been a line that separates us…from a financial standpoint anyway. And when you successfully make that jump into the next tax bracket, you leave behind a few scratching heads wondering “how’d he do that”? That wonderment (also known as ignorance) turns to resentment. The end result? You now have a hater on your hands.
Hater ~ a person who cannot be happy for another person’s success. Instead of being happy, they make it point of exposing the person’s flaws. Their thought process isn’t really hate, it’s to knock that person down a notch.
Now, try breaking a few racial stereotype and see what happens. As a black person, go rock climbing. Or as a white person, become a rapper. Depending on where you are regionally, you’ll be known as “selling out”, or acting something that you’re not. People are creatures of habit. Change upsets their conformity (which is why a certain political figure is fighting a losing battle). When they see “different” then something must be wrong. Are we really hard wired like that?
Like I said, crabs in a barrel….my friend Anthony is an up and coming cyclist. He’s pretty good. But because cycling isn’t seen as a “black” sport, he’s operating outside of the known stereotype, he gets accused of being something he’s not.
While visiting family back home, I ran into a childhood friend. After reminiscing a bit, he pulls me to the side and asks, ” Hey dawg, so how long were you locked up for”? See… for this imbecile, military training and 14 years of bodybuilding resemble working out in the penitentiary recreation room.
This is a very large world we live in. Get off your close-minded, prejudiced thinking, one tracked, “I eat the same thing for breakfast everyday”, asses…and experience something new. Talk to someone different. Walk another route. Stop wallowing in your own ignorance and for God’s sake stop educating yourself via television.
through playing with y’all…..damn.
More Cushion for the Pushing?
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 (damn, she is still fine!) 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”.
“Shiiiiiiiiiiiiit”.
The Return
He’s coming back to the game. And as much as his peers will hate it, they will also welcome him back with open arms. All while making snide comments behind his back. No, it isn’t Brett Favre and it sure as hell ain’t Jordan. It’s Eldrick. And before you get your panties in a bunch asking who Eldrick is, I’ll tell you.
Eldrick Tont Woods…affectionately (and intimately) known as Tiger. Now, there is absolutely nothing about Tiger Woods that I could expound upon that the media hasn’t already filleted and gutted a million times already, except for one thing. Why he got caught. (no, not why he did it, why he got caught).
Tiger Woods is an island unto himself. That kinda makes it hard to do dirt when you’re visible from the weather channel’s satellites. Secondly, he went against the grain of every celeb/athlete’s mantra. He had no Entourage.
Entourage (read: boys who you pay and trust to do YOUR dirt and take the fall). These people are made up of people you know before the fame and fortune and when the shit hits the fan, will gladly scoop it up.
Celebs with entourages usually have a bad image of boozing party hounds, so Tiger refrained from having one, not realizing their true purpose. Damn, hindsight’s a bitch ain’t it?
But let me make myself really really clear. In no way do I condone Mr. Woods infidelities. He was stupid and got caught with his hands, feet and who knows what else in the cookie jar. Apparently, he thought he was a college frat boy. I remember my college days, (barely). I felt unstoppable. I vaguely remember my mother mentioning something about me burning out before I turned 25 (guess what mom, it was sooner…).
I didn’t have an entourage but I had friends I trusted impeccably. Question is, who does Tiger trust? It’s kinda funny though, because real tigers hunt solo, at night and ambush their prey. The two legged tigers we know use Patron Margaritas….or cereal.
If only he had one good friend to say “I don’t think its a good idea, let’s go” We wouldn’t be reading about all this nonsense now. But you know what, it’s not all his fault.
Let’s back up a sec. So the wifey had no idea? She was clueless? Yeah right, whatever. If the handwriting is on the wall, you just don’t apply a fresh coat of paint. Let’s not forget this has been going on for years, and she just now decided to bash his head in? A one eyed man with a cataract could see she didn’t care what Tiger did UNTIL it was about to become public knowledge.
So why are people so hellbent on what Tiger is or isn’t doing? Americans (some of us) are boring, mundane hum drum people who live their lives vicariously through someone else. Everyone wants to shake up their lives and do something wild and off the cuff but is afraid to. That’s why Vegas is so popular. What? you thought it was because of the casinos? Kill yourself now and help the census.
People like to commune socially. That’s why everyone is in everyone else’s business and personal affairs. And when celebrities and/or an athlete’s business come to light…oh boy, the fireworks fly. Tiger’s affairs were, socially speaking “a multiple orgasm” for the media and it’s endearing public.
The man liked to get his multicultural penis wet. He’s also given billions in charity benefiting children. Does this make it right? Hell no it doesn’t. Not at all. But tell me…what has your trifling baby’s daddy contributed other than his seed?
Stop casting stones. Welcome back Tiger.
New Year’s Resolution? Who me?
Happy New year! It’s that time isn’t it? Time to make that new years resolution.
‘I’m gonna lose weight”
“I’m gonna save money”
and my all time favorite, (one that I can speak on) “I’m gonna work out and get in shape”.
Yay…I for one, welcome January. I’ll get all the cannon fodder I need for my blogs right in the gym. Here’s a question I’ve been wanting to ask so many people. Why do you need a certain time of the year as an excuse to do something that you’re NOT going to stick with year round only to make the exact same excuse at the same time next year? I stopped making resolutions a loooong time ago. I figured out that obviously, I never wanted to do said resolution in the 1st place or I would have done it a lot sooner.
I get it though..sorta. a new year. a new beginning. a new you. Thing is, this could work with other holidays as well.
Easter… “Resurrect a new you”.
July 4th…”Celebrate independence from the old you”
Christmas.. “the birth of a new you”
New Years is just another holiday excuse. Let me give you a few synonyms for the word excuse according to Brittanica: apology , cleanup, cop-out, cover up, evasion, subterfuge, justification, plea…see where I went with that?
Hey, if you stick with your fitness program…great, awesome. I owe you an heartfelt apology and I’ll offer you my personal help and assistance. But my money’s on the ones who just paid up for a whole year at their local gyms and will be outta there by……mmm, let’s say March. It won’t even be 30 days for some. C’mon, I haven’t spend the last 13 years of my life in a gym and not have noticed.
I see you…on the phones, wearing makeup, scoping out potential mates (ok nothing wrong with that part), socializing like the gym is a club without a liquor license. Refusing a trainer and still working out wrong, holding up the machines that real gym members need. And you wonder how can you work out for so long and not see any results.
I didn’t forget about you weekend warriors (part timers in the gym). you have a little definition, so you swagger around the gym after you bench 225, flexing like you’re in the Arnold Classic, grunting like you’re in a strongman competition, wearing your little brother’s wifebeater so you can appear bigger. Tipping the scales at 220lbs does not put you in the big boy club (unless you’re 5’9). These guys usually quit after they tear a muscle from lifting improperly.
Ladies, ladies, ladies…there are sporting goods stores that sell non-tight fitness gear. So there won’t be any need to tie a shirt around your waist to cover up all that ass you’re trying to hide. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. Don’t buy it, and we won’t look. Thus negating the need to cover up what you thought was sexy in the sporting goods dressing room. If men decided to wear loincloths in the pilates class, it would take you outta your game just a little bit wouldn’t it? Mmhmm, thought so. It’s all good til the shoe is on the other foot. Or, to put in more simpler graphic terms…til there’s a large penis in your face and you begin to remember why you’re working out in the first place.
All in all, its going to be fun times these first few months. I have a few goals of my own as well. Only I made them back in October 
See ya in the gym!
Mid-Life Madness
I’m bored.
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…
What’s that smell?
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 the Dolce & Gabanna or that Avon knockoff), the desperation. Seeping outta their 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?
Almost every time I’m out, 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.
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”. Then I saw the look of disgust when she caught the light’s reflection from my platinum 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.
