Day 740
I've spent about 20 hours combined (between yesterday and today) working on finding 1 fucking picture that I can do something cool to in order to turn it into a book cover. And then stumbling around like a blind man who had all of his furniture rearranged overnight while I try to figure out how to use photo editing software. I suck at that shit.
I am just generally not a fan of DOING any sort of computer-related art. I love that you theoretically CAN do so much cool shit with all the software out there, but I just don't know what I'm doing. I'm pretty sure a spastic kindergartener knows more about photoshop than I do.
I love making art. But I prefer doing it with a pencil and paper and then inking it. I prefer to do it with a paintbrush. Or I prefer making it with my fucking hands. That's actual art to me. I respect the shit out of the people that know what they're doing in photoshop, but fuck that noise. I just don't care to even learn it at this point. It's not my thing. I probably should have tried learning a decade and a half ago when I had a copy of photoshop 5 or 6 or something. But sadly, I won't use a tutorial. I won't sit through and read a 200 page how-to guide to figure out how to do something like that. It should be intuitive. Like drawing or painting. They're intuitive.
You sketch before you draw. You mold before you sculpt. But it's all intuitive. You start with a single line and go from there. You start with a blank slate. You start with a block of clay or an object.
Photo editing though? That's a whole different fucking ballgame. You start with something that's already there and then you make it different using arbitrarily named tools that don't seem to function in a consistant manner from picture to picture, or even use to use. I just can't get used to that. When I draw a line that is 4 inches long for something, it will be a 4 inch long line every fucking time. I click on some gather tool or selecting tool and it picks different shit each time. And in a different way. I can't get used to that. And I don't like it.
And now I'm done bitching about photo editing.
Maybe I'll just draw a cover. Though a random comic-book looking cover with superheroes that nobody has ever seen before would be a kind of "what the fuck?" thing when they open it up and try to read it. Plus, I wouldn't want to actually color any of my black & white inked pencils. LOL! Cause that means either colored pencils, paint, or using fucking photoshop to color it in. NO. No No NO.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Random Thought Of The Day #739
Day 739
Vote on your preference for the book cover:
Vote on your preference for the book cover:
Or you can pick something entirely different. Give me ideas and let me see what I can come up with. I'm limited by the number of pictures that I have that are actually large enough in pixel size to be used unless I do something entirely different or the other uploaded version through Smashwords. And I've obviously changed my original idea a little bit because I haven't had the time or energy to get the photo that I originally wanted with scheduling with everyone and whatnot. So.... I'm pretty much down to one of my only pictures that wasn't of my dog and that was actually above the pixel count that the ebook distributors wanted.
But fuck you... I made all of them this morning and even threw away about a half dozen shittier version. And I really suck at photo editing too. So eat me. Unless you're volunteering to make something for me from one of the half dozen optional pics I have to work with, I don't wanna hear it.
Monday, October 29, 2012
RTOTD #738.2
Day 738.2
I've said it before and I'll say it again... I will take 25 and snowing like a sonnuvabitch over 40 and raining any day of the fucking week.
Yes, driving in snow is a little more difficult, but it's reasonable. Being outside for even short stretches, especially with all of the bullshit smoking laws that pretty much force you to be in the middle of a cornfield in Nebraska to light up, makes this the most miserable weather humanly possible.
Even being outside under some sort of cover sucks. The wind blows the rain into you, and the air is just wet. The air isn't wet like this when it's snowling. For some reason, it stays actually pretty dry. But when it's like this? You walk outside and you just feel damp and then the wind blows it right through you. It fucking sucks.
It actually manages to feel colder at a higher temperature when it's raining like this. I don't know why. It probably has something to do with the moisture levels in the air. But fuck it... snow actually feels warmer than this bullshit.
Fuck this almost-but-not-quite-cold-enough-to-snow and raining bullshit. Let me know when there's actually snow. I'll be fine with that.
I've said it before and I'll say it again... I will take 25 and snowing like a sonnuvabitch over 40 and raining any day of the fucking week.
Yes, driving in snow is a little more difficult, but it's reasonable. Being outside for even short stretches, especially with all of the bullshit smoking laws that pretty much force you to be in the middle of a cornfield in Nebraska to light up, makes this the most miserable weather humanly possible.
Even being outside under some sort of cover sucks. The wind blows the rain into you, and the air is just wet. The air isn't wet like this when it's snowling. For some reason, it stays actually pretty dry. But when it's like this? You walk outside and you just feel damp and then the wind blows it right through you. It fucking sucks.
It actually manages to feel colder at a higher temperature when it's raining like this. I don't know why. It probably has something to do with the moisture levels in the air. But fuck it... snow actually feels warmer than this bullshit.
Fuck this almost-but-not-quite-cold-enough-to-snow and raining bullshit. Let me know when there's actually snow. I'll be fine with that.
RTOTD #738.1
Day 738.1
So yeah... I hope everyone had fun on Saturday. I was in rare fucking form myself and time traveled from somewhere around 1 or 2 am until 8:30. I time traveled mid-blowjob.
I remember thanking everyone for coming with some rambling bullshit. I remember playing pong. I remember being smart enough to not play with anyone. And then getting laid. And then passing right the fuck out while getting head.
This was not my finest moment.
I hope everyone got home OK and all that fun stuff.
I should maybe not rapid-fire my vodka & mountain dew mixture in 4 ounce shots straight down my throat again. I don't think that plan worked out very well for anyone. Doctor Shots was not the best costume idea. Because, well... we all know that when I want to play a character, I own the fuck out of it. As long as that character is either a dick or a drunk. Or a combination of both of them.
But sadly, I think we can all safely assume that this was simply the warm-up act to the absolute and complete devastation that I plan to leave in my wake on my birthday. Just... be ready to carry me up the stairs at some point. Or begin the process of determining which of your women will be sacrificed to me. I demand tribute in the form of your women. Or just get me drunk enough that I don't really care anymore.
But I do have to ask... how did my 5lb sledgehammer end up in the middle of my basement floor? Did someone have a scene that I would have been proud to see and I entirely missed it?
And I am bummed... I didn't get a chance to try to get any pictures that I could use as the book cover. Anyone get one that I might be able to use? Preferably without any faces that I would need to blur/block out?
So yeah... I hope everyone had fun on Saturday. I was in rare fucking form myself and time traveled from somewhere around 1 or 2 am until 8:30. I time traveled mid-blowjob. I remember thanking everyone for coming with some rambling bullshit. I remember playing pong. I remember being smart enough to not play with anyone. And then getting laid. And then passing right the fuck out while getting head.
This was not my finest moment.
I hope everyone got home OK and all that fun stuff.
I should maybe not rapid-fire my vodka & mountain dew mixture in 4 ounce shots straight down my throat again. I don't think that plan worked out very well for anyone. Doctor Shots was not the best costume idea. Because, well... we all know that when I want to play a character, I own the fuck out of it. As long as that character is either a dick or a drunk. Or a combination of both of them. But sadly, I think we can all safely assume that this was simply the warm-up act to the absolute and complete devastation that I plan to leave in my wake on my birthday. Just... be ready to carry me up the stairs at some point. Or begin the process of determining which of your women will be sacrificed to me. I demand tribute in the form of your women. Or just get me drunk enough that I don't really care anymore.
But I do have to ask... how did my 5lb sledgehammer end up in the middle of my basement floor? Did someone have a scene that I would have been proud to see and I entirely missed it?
And I am bummed... I didn't get a chance to try to get any pictures that I could use as the book cover. Anyone get one that I might be able to use? Preferably without any faces that I would need to blur/block out?
Random Thought Of The Day #738
Day 738
So we've got a fucked up storm coming, right? Hell, if it wasn't for the fact that we totally would have used it to destroy most of the middle east and take their oil a decade ago, I would swear that the timing of this fucking storm right before the election and the forthcoming "amazing response" that's going to happen to fix any of the damage it causes is entirely due to the government using a weather manipulator weapon. Cause that's something that I could totally see them doing at this point. Either the Robot or the flying elephant. Both of them would do it if given the chance.
The thing is... like every other weatherman-hyped event in history, people freak out. I can count about 2 times in my lifetime that something has hit with the kind of "devastating effect" that they're expecting from this. Snowpocalypse 2010 and the other snow storm in about 1994 or so. And with each freakout, we get people telling us how to prepare and what to do and all that fun shit.
I just got my "ohholyshitwe'reallgoingtodie" message from Verizon saying that we might lose power and with that goes the phone and internet and tv and all that fun shit. Great, right? I mean... we might lose all that stuff. Understandable. Poles go down with weight from ice or snow or high winds. It happens.
What I don't get is that the message effectively says "hey, so this might happen and you might lose internet and if you do, you can't use the internet. So here's links to internet sites that will tell you how to get your internet back if it goes down. So when it goes down and you can't use the internet, click these links on the internet and it'll tell you how to fix your internet."
Fucking really? That's all kinds of helpful. It's like when my IT guys complain that I didn't use the HelpStar internet-based website to log a service request because I can't do anything on the internet. That's like saying "why didn't you call us" when your phone line goes down? Or "well, your tv is out. you need to tune to channel 1 to get info on how to log a service request for getting yout tv fixed".
How much fucking sense does that make?
And while I'm at it... when the fuck did hurricanes become northern problems? I thought that was just the downside of living in the south and avoiding snowstorms and blizzards and ice and shit? That was the penalty for getting all the sun that the North doesn't get. That's the fucking deal. I accept snow and ice and blizzards and lack-of-sunshine for 8 months out of the year and shit. You keep the hurricanes and flying debris and shit in the south. The midwest just gets fucked with tornados. But they also get flat land and better gas mileage as a result. This is the fucking tradeoff. You pick the way weather fucks with you,based on where you life. But weather doesn't get to fucking change the deal. We had a contract, Mother Nature. And fuck you for trying to change the terms now.
I live in Pittsburgh. We get to deal with mediocre gas mileage due to hills, 70 days of sunshine out of 365, snow, ice, and blizzards, but we don't have the "holy fuck the wind is going to throw my car through the 7-11 go hide in the basement and run for your motherfucking lives mother nature is going to kill us all" bullshit that you get in the south and midwest. I am NOT willing to accept fucking hurricanes when I can't even see a beach without a 6 hour drive, fuckers. This is not the deal. I'm not changing the terms of this fucking contract now, bitch.
So we've got a fucked up storm coming, right? Hell, if it wasn't for the fact that we totally would have used it to destroy most of the middle east and take their oil a decade ago, I would swear that the timing of this fucking storm right before the election and the forthcoming "amazing response" that's going to happen to fix any of the damage it causes is entirely due to the government using a weather manipulator weapon. Cause that's something that I could totally see them doing at this point. Either the Robot or the flying elephant. Both of them would do it if given the chance. The thing is... like every other weatherman-hyped event in history, people freak out. I can count about 2 times in my lifetime that something has hit with the kind of "devastating effect" that they're expecting from this. Snowpocalypse 2010 and the other snow storm in about 1994 or so. And with each freakout, we get people telling us how to prepare and what to do and all that fun shit.
I just got my "ohholyshitwe'reallgoingtodie" message from Verizon saying that we might lose power and with that goes the phone and internet and tv and all that fun shit. Great, right? I mean... we might lose all that stuff. Understandable. Poles go down with weight from ice or snow or high winds. It happens. What I don't get is that the message effectively says "hey, so this might happen and you might lose internet and if you do, you can't use the internet. So here's links to internet sites that will tell you how to get your internet back if it goes down. So when it goes down and you can't use the internet, click these links on the internet and it'll tell you how to fix your internet."
Fucking really? That's all kinds of helpful. It's like when my IT guys complain that I didn't use the HelpStar internet-based website to log a service request because I can't do anything on the internet. That's like saying "why didn't you call us" when your phone line goes down? Or "well, your tv is out. you need to tune to channel 1 to get info on how to log a service request for getting yout tv fixed".
How much fucking sense does that make?
"So your service broke? Well, you need to use that service to get that service fixed" is the message here.
"But I just told you, that service is broken."
"Huh? It's simple. Just go use the service to fix the service."
"But it's fucking broken!"
"Well, if you would simply use that service, it'll show you how to fix that service, sir"
"But... oh fuck it... "
Is this the laziest fucking way in history to avoid actually fixing shit that breaks?
The lack of logic used by these idiots is amazing.
And while I'm at it... when the fuck did hurricanes become northern problems? I thought that was just the downside of living in the south and avoiding snowstorms and blizzards and ice and shit? That was the penalty for getting all the sun that the North doesn't get. That's the fucking deal. I accept snow and ice and blizzards and lack-of-sunshine for 8 months out of the year and shit. You keep the hurricanes and flying debris and shit in the south. The midwest just gets fucked with tornados. But they also get flat land and better gas mileage as a result. This is the fucking tradeoff. You pick the way weather fucks with you,based on where you life. But weather doesn't get to fucking change the deal. We had a contract, Mother Nature. And fuck you for trying to change the terms now. 
I live in Pittsburgh. We get to deal with mediocre gas mileage due to hills, 70 days of sunshine out of 365, snow, ice, and blizzards, but we don't have the "holy fuck the wind is going to throw my car through the 7-11 go hide in the basement and run for your motherfucking lives mother nature is going to kill us all" bullshit that you get in the south and midwest. I am NOT willing to accept fucking hurricanes when I can't even see a beach without a 6 hour drive, fuckers. This is not the deal. I'm not changing the terms of this fucking contract now, bitch.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
RTOTD #31 - Classic Repost Edition
Since we're approaching Halloween again, I figured it was appropriate to repost this again, as I tend to do annually.
Day 31
Dear Great Pumpkin,
As your spirit is to Halloween what Santa Clause is to Christmas, I have decided that you are obligated to give me gifts as well. I believe that most people will agree with me on this subject and they will reply below.
As such, here is my list of free shit you may give me:
a deathray gun
a monkey
the remote control that allows me to kill the person on tv
a teleportation device large enough to transport my car
magical powers
vodka
gold
and guns
all of these are acceptable gifts. If, by any chance, I do not receive any of these or if I get pumpkin seeds or some other such bullshit in my Jack-o-lantern hung on the mantle or placed under the pumpkin vine decorating my living room, I shall track you down, eviscerate you and bake a wonderful pie with your internal organs, of whatever that mess is.
You have been warned, Great Pumpkin. I demand free shit.
Sincerely,
Your Friendly, Neighborhood Mad Scientist
Friday, October 26, 2012
RTOTD #737.2
Day 737.2
After getting into a discussion with DespoenaCalypso on Twitter about hurricane names, I think we've come to the conclusion that we need to start a petition. The present hurricane naming scheme is outdated. We need a new one.
We've decided on a new system for it too. Stripper names. It's appropriate too. They're trainwrecks that really don't do anything but cost people money and destroy shit in the process of fluttering into and out of your life.
Here's some of the names we've come up with so far:
Hurricane Misty
Hurricane Sunny
Hurricane Summer
Hurricane Hailey
Hurricane Dawn
Hurricane Autumn
Hurricane Dallas
Hurricane Mercedes
So what are some of your suggestions for the names to go into the naming pool for future hurricanes? Let's here your best stripper hurricane names?
After getting into a discussion with DespoenaCalypso on Twitter about hurricane names, I think we've come to the conclusion that we need to start a petition. The present hurricane naming scheme is outdated. We need a new one. We've decided on a new system for it too. Stripper names. It's appropriate too. They're trainwrecks that really don't do anything but cost people money and destroy shit in the process of fluttering into and out of your life.
Here's some of the names we've come up with so far:
Hurricane MistyHurricane Sunny
Hurricane Summer
Hurricane Hailey
Hurricane Dawn
Hurricane Autumn
Hurricane Dallas
Hurricane Mercedes
So what are some of your suggestions for the names to go into the naming pool for future hurricanes? Let's here your best stripper hurricane names?
Random Thought Of The Day #737
Day 737
There is a costume contest in my office today.
Had I remembered, I would have woken up late, stumbled in while still wearing my pajamas, and without showering.
I would have been "guy that was really late for work but also doesn't realize what is appropriate work attire". Because when I play a role, I go full-bore into it and live that role completely.
Which might make the drunken surgical operations that I plan on conducting this Saturday all the more interesting.
There is a costume contest in my office today.
Had I remembered, I would have woken up late, stumbled in while still wearing my pajamas, and without showering.
I would have been "guy that was really late for work but also doesn't realize what is appropriate work attire". Because when I play a role, I go full-bore into it and live that role completely.
Which might make the drunken surgical operations that I plan on conducting this Saturday all the more interesting.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Random Thought Of The Day #736
Day 736
Well, after the little bits of fucking around I've done with the book in the past few days, it is now at about 320 pages. Almost exactly the length I was going for. Just shy of 320 pages of text, plus title pages & stuff. And about 3 pages of pictures.
I'm spending today doing all the formatting stuff for getting it ready for ebook conversion. So there's really not much to say today. I'm effectively working of of 2 versions of the same book now. 1 for ebook conversion. 1 for print-on-demand publication.
So this is about as good as it's gonna get today. I'm virtually counting days. As soon as I get the suggestions/edits back from the couple proof readers I have, I plan to take the cover photo this weekend one way or another, and then upload it.
Well, after the little bits of fucking around I've done with the book in the past few days, it is now at about 320 pages. Almost exactly the length I was going for. Just shy of 320 pages of text, plus title pages & stuff. And about 3 pages of pictures.
I'm spending today doing all the formatting stuff for getting it ready for ebook conversion. So there's really not much to say today. I'm effectively working of of 2 versions of the same book now. 1 for ebook conversion. 1 for print-on-demand publication.
So this is about as good as it's gonna get today. I'm virtually counting days. As soon as I get the suggestions/edits back from the couple proof readers I have, I plan to take the cover photo this weekend one way or another, and then upload it.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
RTOTD #735.1
Day 735. 1
The "Know Your Doktor 101" course syllabus has been written. Please see the below requirements.
RTOTD #10 - present
Once you have completed this required reading, you will be given a test. Upon successful completion of this test, you may have your question or message replied to.
This is the new requirement for speaking to me if I have not yet met you or you receive a recommendation letter from a member of the Epsilon Phi Co-Ed Kinky Fraternity that recommends you to be exempt from passing this prerequisite course.
This special dispensation will not exempt you from having the knowledge base that the test proves that you posess. It simply exempts you from the test. If you are later found to be lacking in the requisite knowledge, all future communication will be cut off until you have successfully completed the "Know Your Doktor 101" course and the test.
The "Know Your Doktor 101" course syllabus has been written. Please see the below requirements.
RTOTD #10 - present
Once you have completed this required reading, you will be given a test. Upon successful completion of this test, you may have your question or message replied to.
This is the new requirement for speaking to me if I have not yet met you or you receive a recommendation letter from a member of the Epsilon Phi Co-Ed Kinky Fraternity that recommends you to be exempt from passing this prerequisite course.
This special dispensation will not exempt you from having the knowledge base that the test proves that you posess. It simply exempts you from the test. If you are later found to be lacking in the requisite knowledge, all future communication will be cut off until you have successfully completed the "Know Your Doktor 101" course and the test.
Random Thought Of The Day #735
Day 735
When new people are coming into the kinky world, they often seek out people to help them find their way. Recently, they've felt compelled to come to me.
Yes. Stop and think about that. I did just say that. They've been approaching me as a new person.
What.. wait... what... what the fuck? Since when have I even appeared even moderately approachable for a new person? I'm barely approachable for people that I actually know. What is it that screams "hey new person, I'm the one to help you!" all of a sudden? What about ME says that approaching me as a new person would be a good fucking idea? Hell, what about me says that approaching me at all is a good idea? People that I even LIKE sometimes won't approach me. People that I don't like, don't even bother. People I don't know? Well... if they're smart, they ask someone else, and that someone else just says "no, that's not a very good idea".
No seriously. I want to know. I want to know so I can change it.
In the past month or so, I've had at least a dozen total randoms send me messages to start asking me for advice on how to navigate the beginnings of entry into the community.
Me. Of all fucking people to pick to ask about this. Mr. "I don't do community". The guy that doesn't even know what is going on half the time. And won't even bother to acknowledge it as an actual thing if it involves him leaving his house or going to any establishment beyond those directly bordering Braddock Ave. The guy who has really no interest in attending something that isn't an UnMunch at this point.
Fuck, I don't even know WHERE the munches are anymore. Honestly, I have no clue. If you put a gun to my head and asked where any of the munches are other than the one at the gay bar out in the middle of nowhere Irwin, you might as well pull the trigger, because I really have no clue.
Look, children. I'm like the boogie man that they warn you about when you first show up. I might not be a total ass all the time, but unless you're there to entertain me, there's a reasonable chance that I might make you run away in tears or I might just walk away, or I might just sit there and enjoy whatever it is that I am doing until you stop talking before I tell you to go away. Your self-esteem is there for me to play way, chew on, and splatter across the walls. Because I'm not a nice person.
Unless I see that glimmer in your eye of a large stockpile of nitroglycerin and the spastic child playing with matches inside your mind that just screams "I will probably stab you" that goes along with the Borderline Personality Disorder that is all-too-common in the kinky world. Then I'll just back away slowly and hope to never see you again.
Why is this happening? I am not here to help you. I am here to entertain myself, and if I entertain others in the process, even better. I am here to watch people stroke my ego because I'm better than you. And I'm here to get drunk and laid. I don't know why you think I'm the best person to approach, but I'm really not.
I should probably add THAT to my profile here too. Oh wait... nobody reads those. OR FUCKING EVENT DESCRIPTIONS!
Reminder... everyone should read that whole thing I just wrote last week about people thinking it's perfectly reasonable to COME TO MY HOUSE if they have NEVER BEEN TO ANYTHING EVER!
Seriously... I'm starting to really question the sanity of new people even more. First you talk to me. Then you think I want you at my house?
My roomies and I throw these parties for a simple reason: I want to get drunk with my friends and maybe beat some bitches and then get laid before I go pass out. I want do do all of this without leaving my house. I do not want to make you feel welcome. That is what the community is for. I am not part of it. I think you're confused. I don't know what my roomies like about doing it, but I have a suspicion it's not terribly different.
When new people are coming into the kinky world, they often seek out people to help them find their way. Recently, they've felt compelled to come to me.Yes. Stop and think about that. I did just say that. They've been approaching me as a new person.
What.. wait... what... what the fuck? Since when have I even appeared even moderately approachable for a new person? I'm barely approachable for people that I actually know. What is it that screams "hey new person, I'm the one to help you!" all of a sudden? What about ME says that approaching me as a new person would be a good fucking idea? Hell, what about me says that approaching me at all is a good idea? People that I even LIKE sometimes won't approach me. People that I don't like, don't even bother. People I don't know? Well... if they're smart, they ask someone else, and that someone else just says "no, that's not a very good idea".
No seriously. I want to know. I want to know so I can change it. In the past month or so, I've had at least a dozen total randoms send me messages to start asking me for advice on how to navigate the beginnings of entry into the community.
Me. Of all fucking people to pick to ask about this. Mr. "I don't do community". The guy that doesn't even know what is going on half the time. And won't even bother to acknowledge it as an actual thing if it involves him leaving his house or going to any establishment beyond those directly bordering Braddock Ave. The guy who has really no interest in attending something that isn't an UnMunch at this point.
Fuck, I don't even know WHERE the munches are anymore. Honestly, I have no clue. If you put a gun to my head and asked where any of the munches are other than the one at the gay bar out in the middle of nowhere Irwin, you might as well pull the trigger, because I really have no clue. Look, children. I'm like the boogie man that they warn you about when you first show up. I might not be a total ass all the time, but unless you're there to entertain me, there's a reasonable chance that I might make you run away in tears or I might just walk away, or I might just sit there and enjoy whatever it is that I am doing until you stop talking before I tell you to go away. Your self-esteem is there for me to play way, chew on, and splatter across the walls. Because I'm not a nice person.
Unless I see that glimmer in your eye of a large stockpile of nitroglycerin and the spastic child playing with matches inside your mind that just screams "I will probably stab you" that goes along with the Borderline Personality Disorder that is all-too-common in the kinky world. Then I'll just back away slowly and hope to never see you again.
Why is this happening? I am not here to help you. I am here to entertain myself, and if I entertain others in the process, even better. I am here to watch people stroke my ego because I'm better than you. And I'm here to get drunk and laid. I don't know why you think I'm the best person to approach, but I'm really not. I should probably add THAT to my profile here too. Oh wait... nobody reads those. OR FUCKING EVENT DESCRIPTIONS!
Reminder... everyone should read that whole thing I just wrote last week about people thinking it's perfectly reasonable to COME TO MY HOUSE if they have NEVER BEEN TO ANYTHING EVER!
Seriously... I'm starting to really question the sanity of new people even more. First you talk to me. Then you think I want you at my house?
My roomies and I throw these parties for a simple reason: I want to get drunk with my friends and maybe beat some bitches and then get laid before I go pass out. I want do do all of this without leaving my house. I do not want to make you feel welcome. That is what the community is for. I am not part of it. I think you're confused. I don't know what my roomies like about doing it, but I have a suspicion it's not terribly different.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Random Thought Of The Day #734
Day 734
Here is a list of things that you might or might not know about me:
1. I has a huge fondness for rollercoasters. When I go to amuserment parks, I really don't care about anything BUT riding as many coasters as possible.
2. I am not a big fan of dessert. I will probably opt for a 2nd serving of food over a dessert.
3. Whenever PlayBoyBunny would spend the night at my apartment (years ago), I had a tendency to shove her out of bed while I was still asleep. On at least 2 occasions, she woke me up by hitting me because I had shoved her out of the bed.
4. I once had a ghost that lived in my linen closet at that same apartment in Cleveland. It was an old woman. We developed a pretty good working relationship and she was really nice, but protective of me. She woke up at least 3 different girl that spent the night. They all told me about it the next morning. None of them were aware of the previous instances of a different girl being woken up by the ghost of an old woman.
5. I don't actually believe in ghosts. But the above was weird enough to suspend my skepticism in this case.
6. I'm a pretty good cook. When I cook. I enjoy cooking. I just don't really often think about it ahead of time to ensure I have the necessary ingredients to make whatever it is that I want to eat that particular day.
7. I was the captain of the drumline in highschool. Once, during a Columbus Day parade though downtown, I changed the taps on the band from Left foot to Right. Because I wanted to see the whole band skip.
8. I am a rather hardcore libertarian. And yes, Atlas Shrugged is one of my top 3 favorite books of all time. The movie version, however... was pretty bad. I haven't seen the Part II movie yet, so I can't comment.
9. I wanted to draw comic books as a kid. I wanted to write comic books as an adult. I still want to write a comic just to say that I have. I would probably engage in ritual human sacrifice in order to get the writing gig on X-Men or Uncanny.
10. I have a guilty pleasure of a handful of pop songs that I occasionally will indulge myself with. I then hate myself for enjoying them even momentarily. This is the one of only about 3 moments I have with any regularity that I would qualify as "self-loathing".
11. I played hockey from age 10 through about 19. I fucked up my knee (MCL) and that was the end of playing hockey. That was also when I began getting fat and letting myself get out of shape. I never entirely recovered from that when it came to motiviation for staying fit.
12. I would often go shooting at the gun range in Monroeville with my friend DrunkCop, TheTexan, and Whiskey. We would always momentarily pause when driving up the hill to it and ponder the gas savings of stopping a few hundred yards before the gun club and engaging in our target practice as the Cornerstone TV station. We never acted upon this.
13. I once had 22 minutes in penalties in 1 hockey game due to fighting. During the same season, I was ejected from at least 5 games for fighting more than 2 opposing players at the same time. It was only a 16 game season. I finished that season with 4 goals, 8 assists, and 120 penalty minutes.
14. I have never driven west of Chicago. However, I have been in Hawaii once. They had Pineapple on their quarter pounders. It was weird.
15. I once skipped school with my friend Rage and drove to Toronto so that we could go to the Hockey Hall of Fame. While there, when we were finishing in the Trophy Room (which only has 1 way in and out), I told Rage to tell me when he was ready to leave. When he said he was done, I jumped the rope that blocked you from the Stanley Cup and gave it a hug and a kiss. We then ran out when security began chasing us. We finally made it out and then went and got beers at some pub right along the lake. It wasn't until 3 years later that either of my parents found out about it.
16. The rough drafts for every paper I wrote between the ages of 16 and 20 were written on the back of Eat N Park placemats. Then they stopped giving out placemats. I got sad.
17. I had a girl try to move in with me on the 2nd date. I will be writing this story in the 2nd book.
18. I found that Kinkos will do just about anything you want them to with no questions asked. El Hefe and I once made fake IDs there. I made a fake college visit excuse for school. Whiskey, TheTexan, and I once walked in with a manilla folder from TheTexan's dad. He asked us to make copies. When we opened the folder in Kinkos, we found that it was design plans for a radar guidance system for an (if memory serves) F-18. It was also stamped "Eyes Only - Do Not Copy". The Kinkos guy didn't even flinch.
19. For as much as blondes would SEEM to be my thing, I've actually dated and slept with far more brunettes. I have only slept with/dated 4 blondes in my life. 3 of them were in a row too. I've had more brunettes & redheads than blondes.
20. If I had to choose only 3 things that I could eat every day for the rest of my life, it would be sushi (salmon sushi nigiri if I had to pick a specific kind), Filet Mignon, and Hoffbrauhaus Pretzels with Beer Cheese.
21. I once asked a cow for directions while stoned with El Hefe because we were lost near Slickville.
22. Whiskey & I installed the pool that was at the Climax on 22 out past New Alexandria. When they added the "pool service" and the "drive thru" to a strip club, you had to know it was going downhill.
23. When visiting El Hefe at his place in Oakland one afternoon, he found that his car was dead. Neither of us had jumper cables, so he grabbed 12 gauge speaker wiring from his house. We had my brother hold the wire in place and used it to jump his car. It was not the best idea.
24. I prefer anal to vaginal. And while I love getting head, I have only known a handful of girls in my life that have been able to get me off with their mouth. I can count them all on 1 hand.
25. I once exchanged phone numbers with a porn star that was doing the dancing tour thing. Where they go from city to city as the "headliner" for a weekend. We had some common interests. The next time she was in town, she called and I gave her a basic lesson on learning how to ice skate. She asked me if I'd teach her. She paid. It was pleasant. It also confused me. Strippers and porn stars aren't real people. They're forms of entertainment.
Here is a list of things that you might or might not know about me:
1. I has a huge fondness for rollercoasters. When I go to amuserment parks, I really don't care about anything BUT riding as many coasters as possible.
2. I am not a big fan of dessert. I will probably opt for a 2nd serving of food over a dessert.
3. Whenever PlayBoyBunny would spend the night at my apartment (years ago), I had a tendency to shove her out of bed while I was still asleep. On at least 2 occasions, she woke me up by hitting me because I had shoved her out of the bed.
4. I once had a ghost that lived in my linen closet at that same apartment in Cleveland. It was an old woman. We developed a pretty good working relationship and she was really nice, but protective of me. She woke up at least 3 different girl that spent the night. They all told me about it the next morning. None of them were aware of the previous instances of a different girl being woken up by the ghost of an old woman.
5. I don't actually believe in ghosts. But the above was weird enough to suspend my skepticism in this case.
6. I'm a pretty good cook. When I cook. I enjoy cooking. I just don't really often think about it ahead of time to ensure I have the necessary ingredients to make whatever it is that I want to eat that particular day.
7. I was the captain of the drumline in highschool. Once, during a Columbus Day parade though downtown, I changed the taps on the band from Left foot to Right. Because I wanted to see the whole band skip.
8. I am a rather hardcore libertarian. And yes, Atlas Shrugged is one of my top 3 favorite books of all time. The movie version, however... was pretty bad. I haven't seen the Part II movie yet, so I can't comment.
9. I wanted to draw comic books as a kid. I wanted to write comic books as an adult. I still want to write a comic just to say that I have. I would probably engage in ritual human sacrifice in order to get the writing gig on X-Men or Uncanny.
10. I have a guilty pleasure of a handful of pop songs that I occasionally will indulge myself with. I then hate myself for enjoying them even momentarily. This is the one of only about 3 moments I have with any regularity that I would qualify as "self-loathing".
11. I played hockey from age 10 through about 19. I fucked up my knee (MCL) and that was the end of playing hockey. That was also when I began getting fat and letting myself get out of shape. I never entirely recovered from that when it came to motiviation for staying fit.
12. I would often go shooting at the gun range in Monroeville with my friend DrunkCop, TheTexan, and Whiskey. We would always momentarily pause when driving up the hill to it and ponder the gas savings of stopping a few hundred yards before the gun club and engaging in our target practice as the Cornerstone TV station. We never acted upon this.
13. I once had 22 minutes in penalties in 1 hockey game due to fighting. During the same season, I was ejected from at least 5 games for fighting more than 2 opposing players at the same time. It was only a 16 game season. I finished that season with 4 goals, 8 assists, and 120 penalty minutes.
14. I have never driven west of Chicago. However, I have been in Hawaii once. They had Pineapple on their quarter pounders. It was weird.
15. I once skipped school with my friend Rage and drove to Toronto so that we could go to the Hockey Hall of Fame. While there, when we were finishing in the Trophy Room (which only has 1 way in and out), I told Rage to tell me when he was ready to leave. When he said he was done, I jumped the rope that blocked you from the Stanley Cup and gave it a hug and a kiss. We then ran out when security began chasing us. We finally made it out and then went and got beers at some pub right along the lake. It wasn't until 3 years later that either of my parents found out about it.
16. The rough drafts for every paper I wrote between the ages of 16 and 20 were written on the back of Eat N Park placemats. Then they stopped giving out placemats. I got sad.
17. I had a girl try to move in with me on the 2nd date. I will be writing this story in the 2nd book.
18. I found that Kinkos will do just about anything you want them to with no questions asked. El Hefe and I once made fake IDs there. I made a fake college visit excuse for school. Whiskey, TheTexan, and I once walked in with a manilla folder from TheTexan's dad. He asked us to make copies. When we opened the folder in Kinkos, we found that it was design plans for a radar guidance system for an (if memory serves) F-18. It was also stamped "Eyes Only - Do Not Copy". The Kinkos guy didn't even flinch.
19. For as much as blondes would SEEM to be my thing, I've actually dated and slept with far more brunettes. I have only slept with/dated 4 blondes in my life. 3 of them were in a row too. I've had more brunettes & redheads than blondes.
20. If I had to choose only 3 things that I could eat every day for the rest of my life, it would be sushi (salmon sushi nigiri if I had to pick a specific kind), Filet Mignon, and Hoffbrauhaus Pretzels with Beer Cheese.
21. I once asked a cow for directions while stoned with El Hefe because we were lost near Slickville.
22. Whiskey & I installed the pool that was at the Climax on 22 out past New Alexandria. When they added the "pool service" and the "drive thru" to a strip club, you had to know it was going downhill.
23. When visiting El Hefe at his place in Oakland one afternoon, he found that his car was dead. Neither of us had jumper cables, so he grabbed 12 gauge speaker wiring from his house. We had my brother hold the wire in place and used it to jump his car. It was not the best idea.
24. I prefer anal to vaginal. And while I love getting head, I have only known a handful of girls in my life that have been able to get me off with their mouth. I can count them all on 1 hand.
25. I once exchanged phone numbers with a porn star that was doing the dancing tour thing. Where they go from city to city as the "headliner" for a weekend. We had some common interests. The next time she was in town, she called and I gave her a basic lesson on learning how to ice skate. She asked me if I'd teach her. She paid. It was pleasant. It also confused me. Strippers and porn stars aren't real people. They're forms of entertainment.
Monday, October 22, 2012
RTOTD #733.1
Day 733.1
So... Lance Armstrong has never tested positive for an illegal or banned substance, has never been proven to have cheated, has raised hundreds of millions of dollars for Cancer research, dominated a sport for a decade, and then because... why the fuck not... he gets all of his Tour De France wins stripped of him today. All on accusations and innuendo.
I'm sorry. I really could not give a fuck less about idiots in spandex riding bicycles up and down mountains. And hell, I blame this guy for bringing about the "let's ride bicycles everywhere" fad that I still have to deal with when operating my motor vehicle. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have to deal with 30-something asshats that ride a bicycle down the center of a street at 10 miles under the speed limit while not getting out of the way of actual traffic. They then entirely ignore all posted road signs and traffic laws, demand a greater "safe passing zone" than even other cars have, and generally just act like entitled fuckwits.
As a result of Lance Armstrong being so damn good at his chosen pastime (it's not a sport. Sorry, riding a bicycle, even endurance racing, is not a sport), he gave birth to the new reality of cars having the lowest priority on the roads so that bicycle assholes can be not on the sidewalk (where they belong) because the walker and jogger cocksuckers don't want to share that path of concrete.
If there's anyone on the planet with more reason to hate the side-effects of Lance Armstrong being good at riding a child's form of transportation, it's me. I'd love to go back in time and Nancy Kerrigan his knee to make sure he never ends up starting this bicycle craze. If so, I wouldn't want to put a cow catcher on the front of my car to take care of bicycle assholes and fucking Pitt kids that don't know how to cross the street in Oakland.
But at the same time... the fucking guy has never been proven guilty of a damn thing. At least they had to prove that Pete Rose actually HAD a gambling problem to ban his ass. Even if they didn't prove that he gambled on baseball. But accusations and innuendo are reasons to actually investigate and try to find proof. They are NOT reasons to cast judgment.
All that I've seen so far is that they don't have any actual proof, but they "know he did something bad because nobody could have been that good", so they're just going to punish him anyway.
Guess that's the way of the world now... no matter if someone gets there through honest or dishonest means, if they're too successful, we're going to punish them no matter what just because they're successful. Doesn't matter if it's a corrupt Fortune 500 CEO or an athlete or an honest business man or artist or whatever. Doesn't matter. Too successful? Punish them. Fuck having proof that they actually did something to justify it. If they have proof? Awesome. If not, fuck it... just punish them anyway. Cause we know they did something wrong without needing proof. Fuck due process.
Cause that's the way we do things now, it seems. And it's for that reason that I really wish I didn't have to live in the world some days.
So... Lance Armstrong has never tested positive for an illegal or banned substance, has never been proven to have cheated, has raised hundreds of millions of dollars for Cancer research, dominated a sport for a decade, and then because... why the fuck not... he gets all of his Tour De France wins stripped of him today. All on accusations and innuendo.
I'm sorry. I really could not give a fuck less about idiots in spandex riding bicycles up and down mountains. And hell, I blame this guy for bringing about the "let's ride bicycles everywhere" fad that I still have to deal with when operating my motor vehicle. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have to deal with 30-something asshats that ride a bicycle down the center of a street at 10 miles under the speed limit while not getting out of the way of actual traffic. They then entirely ignore all posted road signs and traffic laws, demand a greater "safe passing zone" than even other cars have, and generally just act like entitled fuckwits.
As a result of Lance Armstrong being so damn good at his chosen pastime (it's not a sport. Sorry, riding a bicycle, even endurance racing, is not a sport), he gave birth to the new reality of cars having the lowest priority on the roads so that bicycle assholes can be not on the sidewalk (where they belong) because the walker and jogger cocksuckers don't want to share that path of concrete.
If there's anyone on the planet with more reason to hate the side-effects of Lance Armstrong being good at riding a child's form of transportation, it's me. I'd love to go back in time and Nancy Kerrigan his knee to make sure he never ends up starting this bicycle craze. If so, I wouldn't want to put a cow catcher on the front of my car to take care of bicycle assholes and fucking Pitt kids that don't know how to cross the street in Oakland.
But at the same time... the fucking guy has never been proven guilty of a damn thing. At least they had to prove that Pete Rose actually HAD a gambling problem to ban his ass. Even if they didn't prove that he gambled on baseball. But accusations and innuendo are reasons to actually investigate and try to find proof. They are NOT reasons to cast judgment.
All that I've seen so far is that they don't have any actual proof, but they "know he did something bad because nobody could have been that good", so they're just going to punish him anyway.
Guess that's the way of the world now... no matter if someone gets there through honest or dishonest means, if they're too successful, we're going to punish them no matter what just because they're successful. Doesn't matter if it's a corrupt Fortune 500 CEO or an athlete or an honest business man or artist or whatever. Doesn't matter. Too successful? Punish them. Fuck having proof that they actually did something to justify it. If they have proof? Awesome. If not, fuck it... just punish them anyway. Cause we know they did something wrong without needing proof. Fuck due process.
Cause that's the way we do things now, it seems. And it's for that reason that I really wish I didn't have to live in the world some days.
Random Thought Of The Day #733
Day 733
Wait... so what ever happened to that kid from E.T.? I mean, I know Drew Barrymore is still around and everything, but what about the other kid? He didn't end up going all Macauley Culkin, right? Well, at least I think he skipped the creepy sleepovers at Michael Jackson's house, right?
I don't really care... but it's just one of those thoughts that popped into my head this morning.
Also... because @Diotima and I haven't done enough Avengers-related (or just generally comic book related) things in the past 6 months, we carved Avengers pumpkins last night. With her making the Iron Man Arc-Reactor and me making Captain American's shield carved into pumpkins.
Because we're better than you.
Alright... well... back to the editing process today and then home to spend the evening cleaning and beginning the decorating process. Because... well... there's a halloween party this weekend that I want to look like an actual halloween party and not just a house party with people in costumes.
Oh... and while I'm at it... don't just puss out and come in regular clothes. Make an actual costume. I don't care if it's "hooker" or "fratboy douchebag" as your costume... but do a fucking costume, kids. Cause... well... I know we're adults and we can dress up whenever we want, but still... COSTUME!
I don't really care... but it's just one of those thoughts that popped into my head this morning.
Also... because @Diotima and I haven't done enough Avengers-related (or just generally comic book related) things in the past 6 months, we carved Avengers pumpkins last night. With her making the Iron Man Arc-Reactor and me making Captain American's shield carved into pumpkins. Because we're better than you.
Alright... well... back to the editing process today and then home to spend the evening cleaning and beginning the decorating process. Because... well... there's a halloween party this weekend that I want to look like an actual halloween party and not just a house party with people in costumes.
Oh... and while I'm at it... don't just puss out and come in regular clothes. Make an actual costume. I don't care if it's "hooker" or "fratboy douchebag" as your costume... but do a fucking costume, kids. Cause... well... I know we're adults and we can dress up whenever we want, but still... COSTUME!
Friday, October 19, 2012
Random Thought Of The Day #732
Day 732
This is a reminder, since some people seem to be confused. The Halloween party is NOT this weekend. I don't know where people keep getting that idea from, but it is NEXT weekend. I've had at least 3 people message me to ask about the party THIS weekend and I have no idea what they're talking about. If people start showing up at my house on Saturday night, I'm going to kick them in the teeth to get them off my porch. By 9:00 tomorrow night, I plan to be combatively drunk. Even if I'm at home.
Is there a party this weekend? Cause I damn well don't remember planning one. And I don't pay attention to what anyone else does. And it says, quite plainly, on the event notice... "October 27th". Which, for calendar impaired, is not this weekend. Today is the 19th. Tomorrow is the 20th. To help you with the math, that means 8 days from now. It does not take 8 days to reach tomorrow. I know this may be complicated to some, but the calendar is your friend. If you can't figure out how it works, you really shouldn't be using a computer and you should try starting with Kindergarten again and working your way up through school from start to finish again.
Additionally, I have no idea who almost a dozen people on the RSVP list are. I was looking through it and was terribly confused by this.
Who RSVP's for a party where they don't even know the host? Do people not read event listings or something? For the majority of the past year, I've written event listings with a pretty clear disclaimer about this.
We do not host "community events". We host private parties. I post them publicly because Fet doesn't allow for mass-messaging. I don't want to put together a mailing list or anything because that kinda shit, even in the age of smart phones with calendar listings built in that allow for easily adding an event to your calendar, people forget about them. I also don't do a mailing list because I don't want to forget to add people to it as I get to know new people that I don't hate. I don't want to turn "managing an event invitation mailing list" into a fucking job. I refuse to have to double-check it every month and think "did I forget to add some new person to the list?" and then find out I forgot to add like 3 people.
But really... every party for the past 6 months or longer, I've gotten messages from total stranger that knows nobody and has never been do anything asking me "hey, where is this place? Wait... what? I clearly state that it's at my house and that if I don't know you or like you, or you're not the guest of someone that I do know and trust, I'm not letting you in the fucking door. How hard is that to grasp for people?
I saw someone else write about this in the past few weeks, so I don't really feel all that compelled to re-hash the same subject again. You might have already read that writing by some other person and I'm not here to re-tread territory that someone else has already covered. I am here to just point this out. And to make this perfectly clear to the people that might know who I am because you read my stuff, but I have no idea who you are (which happens to be a good number of people)... I am not just going to hand out my home address to any cocksmack with an internet connection just because they want to come to a party. And I would greatly appreciate everyone that is a reader not giving it to anyone that they don't know just because they're RSVP'd to the party.
I will no longer hesitate to turn away people that I don't know when they get to the door. If someone messages you and says "hey, where is this place?", point them to me. I figure this is probably not something that I need to explain and it's kind of common sense. I wouldn't just give out your address to some random person that messages me if you're throwing a party. I don't think this is an issue that has crept up, but I just figured I'd just get a pre-emptive strike on it by mentioning it.
Who really does that though? Who thinks that's reasonable behavior? Who thinks "hey, this is a party at a private residence and I don't know the person that lives there. It should be totally OK for me to go, right?" I know it's a thing posted publicly, but there's also a disclaimer about just this situation right in the middle of the event description. If you don't read it, fuck you. That's a whole lotta not my fucking problem.
Is this an entitlement thing? People think that they can't be discriminated against for any reason because it's the kink community? I'm god damn discriminating. I'm picky as fuck as to who I will let in my god damned house. Remember, there's a difference in discriminating and prejudging. People think that because it's the kinky world, the rules of the vanilla world don't apply on who can go where? They're kinky, so of course the most basic social norms go right out the fucking window?
I've said this before and I'll say it again. There's only very minor differences between the kinky world and the vanilla one. Most of the basic social norms still apply. While some things that would not be appropriate in the vanilla world are both acceptable and sometimes encouraged in the kinky one, the REALLY basic ones don't change. The common decency and common sense rules are still right the fuck there.
I'm just going to fall back on the "there's a lot of people that excuse their own personal brand of crazy as 'just kinky' and think that makes it all ok" theory I've had for a while now.
Oh no, I know what it is... it's a combination of 2 things. They have a kink for party crashing at the homes of strangers AND subscribe to the "my kink is always OK" extension of the "your kink might not be my kink but it's ok" theory. That's really the only explanation if they aren't either fucking retarded or batshit crazy.
Is there a party this weekend? Cause I damn well don't remember planning one. And I don't pay attention to what anyone else does. And it says, quite plainly, on the event notice... "October 27th". Which, for calendar impaired, is not this weekend. Today is the 19th. Tomorrow is the 20th. To help you with the math, that means 8 days from now. It does not take 8 days to reach tomorrow. I know this may be complicated to some, but the calendar is your friend. If you can't figure out how it works, you really shouldn't be using a computer and you should try starting with Kindergarten again and working your way up through school from start to finish again.
Additionally, I have no idea who almost a dozen people on the RSVP list are. I was looking through it and was terribly confused by this.
Who RSVP's for a party where they don't even know the host? Do people not read event listings or something? For the majority of the past year, I've written event listings with a pretty clear disclaimer about this.
We do not host "community events". We host private parties. I post them publicly because Fet doesn't allow for mass-messaging. I don't want to put together a mailing list or anything because that kinda shit, even in the age of smart phones with calendar listings built in that allow for easily adding an event to your calendar, people forget about them. I also don't do a mailing list because I don't want to forget to add people to it as I get to know new people that I don't hate. I don't want to turn "managing an event invitation mailing list" into a fucking job. I refuse to have to double-check it every month and think "did I forget to add some new person to the list?" and then find out I forgot to add like 3 people.
But really... every party for the past 6 months or longer, I've gotten messages from total stranger that knows nobody and has never been do anything asking me "hey, where is this place? Wait... what? I clearly state that it's at my house and that if I don't know you or like you, or you're not the guest of someone that I do know and trust, I'm not letting you in the fucking door. How hard is that to grasp for people?
I saw someone else write about this in the past few weeks, so I don't really feel all that compelled to re-hash the same subject again. You might have already read that writing by some other person and I'm not here to re-tread territory that someone else has already covered. I am here to just point this out. And to make this perfectly clear to the people that might know who I am because you read my stuff, but I have no idea who you are (which happens to be a good number of people)... I am not just going to hand out my home address to any cocksmack with an internet connection just because they want to come to a party. And I would greatly appreciate everyone that is a reader not giving it to anyone that they don't know just because they're RSVP'd to the party.
I will no longer hesitate to turn away people that I don't know when they get to the door. If someone messages you and says "hey, where is this place?", point them to me. I figure this is probably not something that I need to explain and it's kind of common sense. I wouldn't just give out your address to some random person that messages me if you're throwing a party. I don't think this is an issue that has crept up, but I just figured I'd just get a pre-emptive strike on it by mentioning it. Who really does that though? Who thinks that's reasonable behavior? Who thinks "hey, this is a party at a private residence and I don't know the person that lives there. It should be totally OK for me to go, right?" I know it's a thing posted publicly, but there's also a disclaimer about just this situation right in the middle of the event description. If you don't read it, fuck you. That's a whole lotta not my fucking problem.
Is this an entitlement thing? People think that they can't be discriminated against for any reason because it's the kink community? I'm god damn discriminating. I'm picky as fuck as to who I will let in my god damned house. Remember, there's a difference in discriminating and prejudging. People think that because it's the kinky world, the rules of the vanilla world don't apply on who can go where? They're kinky, so of course the most basic social norms go right out the fucking window?
I've said this before and I'll say it again. There's only very minor differences between the kinky world and the vanilla one. Most of the basic social norms still apply. While some things that would not be appropriate in the vanilla world are both acceptable and sometimes encouraged in the kinky one, the REALLY basic ones don't change. The common decency and common sense rules are still right the fuck there.
I'm just going to fall back on the "there's a lot of people that excuse their own personal brand of crazy as 'just kinky' and think that makes it all ok" theory I've had for a while now. Oh no, I know what it is... it's a combination of 2 things. They have a kink for party crashing at the homes of strangers AND subscribe to the "my kink is always OK" extension of the "your kink might not be my kink but it's ok" theory. That's really the only explanation if they aren't either fucking retarded or batshit crazy.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Random Thought Of The Day #731
Day 731
Raise your hand if you remember the film strip and cassette combo from elementry school.
Seriously... anyone under 25, put your hand down, because somehow I doubt it. Unless it was like kindergarten.
I hate to rehash this topic becuase I've been doing a little too much rehasning of old popular topics in the past few weeks, but I'm just considering the kind of major changes that we have had in the past 15 or 18 years. I think it actually manages to make me feel older.
That's it... it's not the years and years of hard drinking, too much smoking, horrible diet, and copious frivelous sex that make me feel old. It's Moore's Law. Technology advancing faster and faster makes me feel ancient long before my time.
So what else do you remember from the "oh god, I can't believe it's been that long" ago period of school?
Fucking Oregon Trail? DOS prompt? home cordless phones? console TV's? Vinyl? The amusing way that anyone presently under 20 will look at you sideways if you set a pencil and a cassette next to each other today and ask "what is the relationship between these 2?" Blowing into the Nintendo? The Konami Code? The fucking Power Glove? 83 cent gas? Cigarettes under $2 a pack? When tights-as-pants were a hideous affront to fashion and basic decency the FIRST time around? Stone Washed Denim? When a 3" heel was "really high"? Mtv that actually showed music videos. Regularly? Roller Rinks? The SKRREEETTTCCHHHH BOOP BEEP SREEEEEEEEEEECH BOOOOOOOODDDDDD DEEP DEEP noise of a dial up internet connection? The WALKMAN? Going to THEATERS to watch porn and not just on your phone while in the subway? Pee Wee Herman being on TV?
Sorry... nothing against the earlier or later time periods, this was really a transitional period between the basic technology that wasn't going to entirely blow up in your face that was going on in the 60's and 70's and early 80's and the modern tech where "I HAVE THE ENTIRE INTERNET AND INFINITE CONNECTIVITY TO EVERYONE IN MY POCKET ON A BAR OF GLASS" of today.
So the big questions for all of you is ... what are you kind of nostalgic about?
And the second question... what piece of tech would you want to take back in time and to what period in the last 40 or 50 years? I would like to take an iPhone (with service) back to the 70's or maybe the mid 80's so that I could stand next to someone with one of those Zack Morris phones and laugh at them. But then they'd beat me to death with their 20 lbs brick of a phone.
Raise your hand if you remember the film strip and cassette combo from elementry school.Seriously... anyone under 25, put your hand down, because somehow I doubt it. Unless it was like kindergarten.
I hate to rehash this topic becuase I've been doing a little too much rehasning of old popular topics in the past few weeks, but I'm just considering the kind of major changes that we have had in the past 15 or 18 years. I think it actually manages to make me feel older.
That's it... it's not the years and years of hard drinking, too much smoking, horrible diet, and copious frivelous sex that make me feel old. It's Moore's Law. Technology advancing faster and faster makes me feel ancient long before my time.
So what else do you remember from the "oh god, I can't believe it's been that long" ago period of school?
Fucking Oregon Trail? DOS prompt? home cordless phones? console TV's? Vinyl? The amusing way that anyone presently under 20 will look at you sideways if you set a pencil and a cassette next to each other today and ask "what is the relationship between these 2?" Blowing into the Nintendo? The Konami Code? The fucking Power Glove? 83 cent gas? Cigarettes under $2 a pack? When tights-as-pants were a hideous affront to fashion and basic decency the FIRST time around? Stone Washed Denim? When a 3" heel was "really high"? Mtv that actually showed music videos. Regularly? Roller Rinks? The SKRREEETTTCCHHHH BOOP BEEP SREEEEEEEEEEECH BOOOOOOOODDDDDD DEEP DEEP noise of a dial up internet connection? The WALKMAN? Going to THEATERS to watch porn and not just on your phone while in the subway? Pee Wee Herman being on TV? 
Sorry... nothing against the earlier or later time periods, this was really a transitional period between the basic technology that wasn't going to entirely blow up in your face that was going on in the 60's and 70's and early 80's and the modern tech where "I HAVE THE ENTIRE INTERNET AND INFINITE CONNECTIVITY TO EVERYONE IN MY POCKET ON A BAR OF GLASS" of today.
So the big questions for all of you is ... what are you kind of nostalgic about? 
And the second question... what piece of tech would you want to take back in time and to what period in the last 40 or 50 years? I would like to take an iPhone (with service) back to the 70's or maybe the mid 80's so that I could stand next to someone with one of those Zack Morris phones and laugh at them. But then they'd beat me to death with their 20 lbs brick of a phone.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Random Thought Of The Day #730
Day 730
The book is complete. It ended up clocking in just a little below where I wanted it to, word-count wise, but still. A hair under 80,000 words. 77,285 to be exact. That translates to 310 pages. Plus 2 pages for some pictures and the scans of the Play Partner Application. So about 312 pages altogether.
Now onto the editing process. I did some editing this morning and re-wrote some parts that I didn't feel had the proper flow or just didn't make any sense on a re-read. The editing should take about 3 or 4 days to get replies back about. And the changes should only take a day or 2. Which means it'll be uploaded to the distribution market right before halloween. I don't think it'll be ready in time to do print-on-demand options on LuLu or Amazon before the party, but by the next party? You could have a physical copy in your hands. Thought I guess you could always beat someone with your Kindle. I dont' know how well that would work though.
I'm not going to do any major revisions. It'll be a paragraph here or there. An added joke somewhere if I come up with one (or if my editors do... so feel free to suggest some, ladies!) for the narration part.
I wanted to do this as a 1-draft thing. I wanted to keep the same Random Thought feel to it. The Random Thought Of The Year. 1 take. 1 shot. Hit or miss, I didn't want to lose the same vibe that brought me to this point. Writing in a kind of stream-of-conscious manner is what I've always done on this blog, even when I have issues getting a topic that I have anything at all to say about. I wanted to capture that same feel for the book. Except with stories instead of just "news of the day" stuff or "hot button kink world topic of the week" or something like that.
I want to thank you all for any contribution you made to this. Either in sparking a memory of a story, for being part of one (don't worry, you all get nicknames, but most of these stories are old, so you'll only really need to worry when I write the 2nd book, I didn't know many of you during the time period for the stories in the first half of this book), or just for the encouragement. Thank you.
I would also REALLY like to thank you all for putting up with my bullshit over the past 3 months since I decided to write this. My incessant yammering about "I'm writing a book" and all that preposterous crap. I know it got obnoxious. I know you're all sick of hearing about it too. Don't worry, I won 't be blabbering about it too much longer. Once it's available, you'll get a little bit more of my shameless self-promoting and some requests to help spread the word that people should buy it, but that should be it.
But I'm proud of myself. It's the first time in a long time that I've actually followed through to completion on something that I really wanted to do. Most of the time for the past few years, I've made plans, got bored half-way through, and went to get a sandwich and watch tv instead. This time I actually finished it. It might be brilliant or it might be complete shit. That's not for me to decide. I know there's been times that I've read through what I had already written so many times that I wanted to shred the whole fucking thing and start over because I hated it. And there's been times that I've been really happy with it when I've re-read it.
I'm excited. I'm also terrified. While I write this thing every day here to satiate my own desire to verbally fuck you in the temporal lobe and just to rant or engage my brain, I wrote the book for entirely different reasons. I mean, yeah.. sure... I guess the same reasons apply, but if that's all it was, I would have just kept writing here only and left it at that. There had to be something more I wanted out of the greater effort. I don't know what that is, but I'm kinda terrified about what happens if I don't get whatever it is. Does that make any sense?
I write a blog for basically "let me exorcise the demons in my brain that are invading my thought process" reasons. But writing a book? That's gotta be for other reasons. Right? I'm rambling.
Just whatever you do... don't buy it because you just want to support someone that is doing something. Buy it if you really want to read these stories.
Here is a quick Outline of the book
Section 1 - Drunken Mayhem
- The Pepper-Spray Story
- The Breathalyzer Is NOT A Drinking Game
- Don't Invite Us To Parties... Stuff Gets Broken
- Chloroform Snowboarding
- Free Lap-Dances & The War Against My Liver
- Eject
- The Mythical Land Of Brownstown
- The Myrtle Beach Road-Trip Story
- An Egg Of Hash
*The World's Largest Slip-N-Slide
*Merlin The Magician
*A Parking Meter In A Clown Car
- Paint
Section 2 - The Girls, The Sex, & The Trainwrecks
- A Short Story About A Dozen Girls Named Christina
- Why Hotel Headboards Scare Me
- The Imaginary Relationship Story
- PlayBoyBunny
- The Blind Girl
- The Hotel Curse - Part 1
- The Hotel Curse - Part 2
- Spontaneous Anal
- Letters To The Girls I've Fucked (Part 1 and 2)
- Backbreaker
Section 3 - The Random Thoughts & The Awesome
- What?
- The Application
- The Great Pumpkin
- Full-Contact Monopoly
- Play ≠ Therapy
- Laughing At Yourself
*It's Just A Bar
*The Big Fuck You
*The Aftermath
*The Other Aftermath
*Elite
*Epilogue
There you go... I've told some of these stories here. Over half of them are entirely new and more than 75% of the book is entirely original material that I've never posted anywhere. Even the ones that I have already told here have been expanded upon or entirely re-written because it's the only way to make sense to a new reader picking up the book. There's also a lot more to most of these stories than I really feel like getting into when I write HERE each day. Introspective stuff. Connections to be made to other stories in the book. Or just shit that I entirely forgot about when I originally wrote them. But you get the idea.
Now... can anyone remind me... because I'm blanking... what is the part at the beginning of a book that lists the chapters? Table Of Contents? Or is that only for textbooks? See... this is why I am NOT a literary type. Stupid standard writing guideline bullshit. Fuck that, I'm going to just do it my way and everyone can suck it.
So there we go... that is the book, in a nutshell. Now, accept this appology ahead of time and just remember what might happen next the if you ever hear me say:
Hold My Beer & Watch This
The book is complete. It ended up clocking in just a little below where I wanted it to, word-count wise, but still. A hair under 80,000 words. 77,285 to be exact. That translates to 310 pages. Plus 2 pages for some pictures and the scans of the Play Partner Application. So about 312 pages altogether.
Now onto the editing process. I did some editing this morning and re-wrote some parts that I didn't feel had the proper flow or just didn't make any sense on a re-read. The editing should take about 3 or 4 days to get replies back about. And the changes should only take a day or 2. Which means it'll be uploaded to the distribution market right before halloween. I don't think it'll be ready in time to do print-on-demand options on LuLu or Amazon before the party, but by the next party? You could have a physical copy in your hands. Thought I guess you could always beat someone with your Kindle. I dont' know how well that would work though.
I'm not going to do any major revisions. It'll be a paragraph here or there. An added joke somewhere if I come up with one (or if my editors do... so feel free to suggest some, ladies!) for the narration part.
I wanted to do this as a 1-draft thing. I wanted to keep the same Random Thought feel to it. The Random Thought Of The Year. 1 take. 1 shot. Hit or miss, I didn't want to lose the same vibe that brought me to this point. Writing in a kind of stream-of-conscious manner is what I've always done on this blog, even when I have issues getting a topic that I have anything at all to say about. I wanted to capture that same feel for the book. Except with stories instead of just "news of the day" stuff or "hot button kink world topic of the week" or something like that.
I want to thank you all for any contribution you made to this. Either in sparking a memory of a story, for being part of one (don't worry, you all get nicknames, but most of these stories are old, so you'll only really need to worry when I write the 2nd book, I didn't know many of you during the time period for the stories in the first half of this book), or just for the encouragement. Thank you.
I would also REALLY like to thank you all for putting up with my bullshit over the past 3 months since I decided to write this. My incessant yammering about "I'm writing a book" and all that preposterous crap. I know it got obnoxious. I know you're all sick of hearing about it too. Don't worry, I won 't be blabbering about it too much longer. Once it's available, you'll get a little bit more of my shameless self-promoting and some requests to help spread the word that people should buy it, but that should be it.
But I'm proud of myself. It's the first time in a long time that I've actually followed through to completion on something that I really wanted to do. Most of the time for the past few years, I've made plans, got bored half-way through, and went to get a sandwich and watch tv instead. This time I actually finished it. It might be brilliant or it might be complete shit. That's not for me to decide. I know there's been times that I've read through what I had already written so many times that I wanted to shred the whole fucking thing and start over because I hated it. And there's been times that I've been really happy with it when I've re-read it.
I'm excited. I'm also terrified. While I write this thing every day here to satiate my own desire to verbally fuck you in the temporal lobe and just to rant or engage my brain, I wrote the book for entirely different reasons. I mean, yeah.. sure... I guess the same reasons apply, but if that's all it was, I would have just kept writing here only and left it at that. There had to be something more I wanted out of the greater effort. I don't know what that is, but I'm kinda terrified about what happens if I don't get whatever it is. Does that make any sense?
I write a blog for basically "let me exorcise the demons in my brain that are invading my thought process" reasons. But writing a book? That's gotta be for other reasons. Right? I'm rambling.
Just whatever you do... don't buy it because you just want to support someone that is doing something. Buy it if you really want to read these stories.
Here is a quick Outline of the book
Section 1 - Drunken Mayhem
- The Pepper-Spray Story
- The Breathalyzer Is NOT A Drinking Game
- Don't Invite Us To Parties... Stuff Gets Broken
- Chloroform Snowboarding
- Free Lap-Dances & The War Against My Liver
- Eject
- The Mythical Land Of Brownstown
- The Myrtle Beach Road-Trip Story
- An Egg Of Hash
*The World's Largest Slip-N-Slide
*Merlin The Magician
*A Parking Meter In A Clown Car
- Paint
Section 2 - The Girls, The Sex, & The Trainwrecks
- A Short Story About A Dozen Girls Named Christina
- Why Hotel Headboards Scare Me
- The Imaginary Relationship Story
- PlayBoyBunny
- The Blind Girl
- The Hotel Curse - Part 1
- The Hotel Curse - Part 2
- Spontaneous Anal
- Letters To The Girls I've Fucked (Part 1 and 2)
- Backbreaker
Section 3 - The Random Thoughts & The Awesome
- What?
- The Application
- The Great Pumpkin
- Full-Contact Monopoly
- Play ≠ Therapy
- Laughing At Yourself
*It's Just A Bar
*The Big Fuck You
*The Aftermath
*The Other Aftermath
*Elite
*Epilogue
There you go... I've told some of these stories here. Over half of them are entirely new and more than 75% of the book is entirely original material that I've never posted anywhere. Even the ones that I have already told here have been expanded upon or entirely re-written because it's the only way to make sense to a new reader picking up the book. There's also a lot more to most of these stories than I really feel like getting into when I write HERE each day. Introspective stuff. Connections to be made to other stories in the book. Or just shit that I entirely forgot about when I originally wrote them. But you get the idea.
Now... can anyone remind me... because I'm blanking... what is the part at the beginning of a book that lists the chapters? Table Of Contents? Or is that only for textbooks? See... this is why I am NOT a literary type. Stupid standard writing guideline bullshit. Fuck that, I'm going to just do it my way and everyone can suck it.
So there we go... that is the book, in a nutshell. Now, accept this appology ahead of time and just remember what might happen next the if you ever hear me say:
Hold My Beer & Watch This
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
RTOTD #729.1
Day 729.1
So does anyone know if that stupid 5-feet rule was ever passed for strip clubs in Pittsburgh?
I was watching a movie the other night and there was a part where they didn't want to go to this one club because they had a no-contact rule and then elected to drive to some other place that not only allowed touching but encouraged it.
"So what you're telling me is the fine-line that I always thought existed between strip club and brothel is actually just a series of shades of grey? I've been going about this all wrong"
I will be quite fucking pissed if they ever institute a "no contact" rule. If they institute a "5-foot" rule, I'll never be back at a strip club. It'll be in-call strippers for parties instead of the nudie bar.
What do you have to do? Ball the money up and throw it at them like at Cheerleader's? Who did it ever hurt to stick a single in some girl's g-string or garter? I mean, half of them have it tied into some kind of weird shoe-bari to keep their heels on anyway. So ooohhhh... oh dear... can't have you accidentally coming in contact with their ankles!
Fucking Taliban bullshit, yo!
I was watching a movie the other night and there was a part where they didn't want to go to this one club because they had a no-contact rule and then elected to drive to some other place that not only allowed touching but encouraged it.
"So what you're telling me is the fine-line that I always thought existed between strip club and brothel is actually just a series of shades of grey? I've been going about this all wrong"I will be quite fucking pissed if they ever institute a "no contact" rule. If they institute a "5-foot" rule, I'll never be back at a strip club. It'll be in-call strippers for parties instead of the nudie bar.
What do you have to do? Ball the money up and throw it at them like at Cheerleader's? Who did it ever hurt to stick a single in some girl's g-string or garter? I mean, half of them have it tied into some kind of weird shoe-bari to keep their heels on anyway. So ooohhhh... oh dear... can't have you accidentally coming in contact with their ankles!Fucking Taliban bullshit, yo!
Random Thought Of The Day #729
Day 729
Since I seem to be getting a lot of messages from people that are new readers recently, I figured it was time to explain what this column/blog/writing-series is all about. Long time readers? Feel free to ignore this, or "love" it for the new readers that aren't on my friends list and have just been coming across it in K&P. Or tell me to fuck off or something. Whatever.
For the newbies out there... here's the best way to describe it.
This is a mostly-daily (weekdays with the occasional weekend post) blog about nothing. It really depends on the day and what I have to say that day. I write whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it's 10 words about nothing and sometimes it's 2000 words about all different things.
I will more than likely offend you. Because if you're not offending someone or everyone, you ain't funny.
I am going to be releasing a book around the end of the month. The title is Hold My Beer & Watch This. I will be promoting it here as well as on Fet.
I generally will try to avoid politics and rarely will I be partisan. Because I generally hate either option in any election and I make fun of idiots, poseurs, hacks, the self-righteous, the overly-sensitive, or pretty much anyone else that holds something so dear that they can't even laugh about it.
While everyone ELSE that parlays a successful (or even minorly successful) blog into a book and entirely neglects their actual blog in the process, I don't have that luxury. While I'm sure that many of you would die from withdrawal, I don't know if anyone would give a damn if I wasn't inundating you with my inane ramblings on a daily basis, and I'd probably be entirely forgotten within a few weeks. Well, being forgotten isn't going to really help me actually SELL any of the books, so I'm not going to do that.
But this column serves another purpose. It often lets me gauge what you all really LIKE reading about. Sometimes it's as schizophrenic as most of the girls I've stuck my dick in, but it's a decent barometer. It also lets me tell some of the stories that will end up as some of the supporting stories in this book, and potentially in any additional books I write. It's like a free preview.
This is also my daily outlet. I need this place. I could never entirely abandon it. I might take a week off when I go on vacation or I'm just really burnt out. There's the days that I'm just so swamped that I don't have the time or that I just don't have anything interesting to say, but I can't give it up.
Long story short... this is where I write what I want to write, and sometimes it might be what you want to talk about or read as well. But there's a little something for everyone. Except people with no sense of humor. But fuck thost people. Fuck em if they can't take a joke.
So there you go. That's what this is. Enjoy it. I'm actually looking forward to only needing to make sure that I knock THIS thing out and not this AND 3,000-5,000 words in a book every day.
Since I seem to be getting a lot of messages from people that are new readers recently, I figured it was time to explain what this column/blog/writing-series is all about. Long time readers? Feel free to ignore this, or "love" it for the new readers that aren't on my friends list and have just been coming across it in K&P. Or tell me to fuck off or something. Whatever.
For the newbies out there... here's the best way to describe it.
This is a mostly-daily (weekdays with the occasional weekend post) blog about nothing. It really depends on the day and what I have to say that day. I write whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it's 10 words about nothing and sometimes it's 2000 words about all different things.
I will more than likely offend you. Because if you're not offending someone or everyone, you ain't funny.
I am going to be releasing a book around the end of the month. The title is Hold My Beer & Watch This. I will be promoting it here as well as on Fet.
I generally will try to avoid politics and rarely will I be partisan. Because I generally hate either option in any election and I make fun of idiots, poseurs, hacks, the self-righteous, the overly-sensitive, or pretty much anyone else that holds something so dear that they can't even laugh about it.
While everyone ELSE that parlays a successful (or even minorly successful) blog into a book and entirely neglects their actual blog in the process, I don't have that luxury. While I'm sure that many of you would die from withdrawal, I don't know if anyone would give a damn if I wasn't inundating you with my inane ramblings on a daily basis, and I'd probably be entirely forgotten within a few weeks. Well, being forgotten isn't going to really help me actually SELL any of the books, so I'm not going to do that.
But this column serves another purpose. It often lets me gauge what you all really LIKE reading about. Sometimes it's as schizophrenic as most of the girls I've stuck my dick in, but it's a decent barometer. It also lets me tell some of the stories that will end up as some of the supporting stories in this book, and potentially in any additional books I write. It's like a free preview.
This is also my daily outlet. I need this place. I could never entirely abandon it. I might take a week off when I go on vacation or I'm just really burnt out. There's the days that I'm just so swamped that I don't have the time or that I just don't have anything interesting to say, but I can't give it up.
Long story short... this is where I write what I want to write, and sometimes it might be what you want to talk about or read as well. But there's a little something for everyone. Except people with no sense of humor. But fuck thost people. Fuck em if they can't take a joke.
So there you go. That's what this is. Enjoy it. I'm actually looking forward to only needing to make sure that I knock THIS thing out and not this AND 3,000-5,000 words in a book every day.
I will offer you one parting suggestion:
RUN! RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY RIGHT NOW. Before you get sucked in.
Monday, October 15, 2012
RTOTD #728.1
Day 728.1
Yesterday evening, @Diotima and I were hanging out on the porch and bullshitting, like many nights, when the conversation turned to the types of messages she gets on FetLife. She showed them to me. She read a half dozen to me and they were fucking groan-inducing to an almost nauseating level. Pathetic barely covers it. And the dumpster fire of grammatical mistakes were an indictment of the short-bus level of English language mastery found here by most of you. Sadly, this was the expected part of my disappointment. I knew you were going to get bullshit LULZ txt speak, poor punctuation, and generally kindergarten-level vocabulary.
I shouldn't have been as astounded as I was by the other part, but the level of effort put into a completely unsolicited message that most guys here are the fucking reason that I do NOT send messages to random strangers just because their profile interests me. They were pathetic. None of them were more than 3 sentences long and all of them shared one thing in common... what SHE could do for THEM and not what they could do for each other.
Look, any sort of relationship... from the most mundane and minor "person you kinda know" to the most intimate of relationshiops, and everything in between... they all share one thing in common. They're exchanges. Of energy. Of time. Of interests. They're really a business transaction. When one person gives you their time, you exchange yours for it if you value what comes along with their time. They have to have something to offer YOU in order for you to want to give anything back to them. From time to energy to even conversation.
It's amazing how often people that want something from you immediately try to make that request of you simply because they want it. They don't recognize that they're not even offering anything that that other person might have an interest in on their end of the exchange. And that's sad. That's childish. I mean, really.. it's a dehumanization of the one party into nothing more than the means to achieve their fulfillment. And especially coming from submissive males to a dominant female, isn't that the exact opposite way that it should realistically be approached?
It's because of these types of guys that I don't send messages to people. And that's kinda sad.
I don't make any effort because it's kind of a waste of time for me to sit and write messages to people based on what I see or like in their profile and then offer things about myself that they may like. Not when 99 out of 100 messages they recieve are bullshit requests of them and that 1 gets lost in the shuffle. And with the types of girls that I tend to be interested in, their mailboxes tend to lean more towards the "full" side. And I really REALLY don't have any desire to waste time competing just to get mine read against the tsunami of suck that makes up the rest of their mailboxes. Sorry. Just because they didn't get the notification that I am the awesomest man in the world doesn't mean that I need to go around and personally inform all of the unwashed masses out there of this universal truth. They need to watch the news more often.
I guess I could take the "form letter" approach and see who bites. But then again, do I really have any interest in the types that fall for the "form letter" approach? They probably also are still waiting for their money from that Nigerian prince or the dead British uncle and wondering why they bounced last month's rent check. The form letter is nothing but a fucking resume. And I'm damn sure not applying for any positions with anyone else. That's their job. They get to fill out MY application. Because I'm better than everyone else. Obviously.
I have no objection to competing for attention from girls. Because most of the time, I will win. Or I'll find a way to win. I might not get that girl, but I'll have fun in the process because I don't care about the outcome. I'll either have fun by getting that girl or I'll have fun by amusing myself with jokes or whatever, but that's not really the way the game works on the intarwubz. And I have absolutely no desire to "sell myself" like that just to strike up a conversation with a girl that I'll get bored with in 2 weeks anyway. There's a reason I don't do sales. Because while I could sell ice to an eskimo, and nuclear power to the Japanese, I also have no desire to deal with the endless soul-suck that comes with trying to sell people shit. Myself included.
So that's why I write. I write to amuse myself and because I don't care about the results. That's why I do this. But I also recognize that there's a secondary result of effectively "selling myself" as who I really am and not just what I want people to think by throwing out my thoughts for mass-consumption. I've gotten dozens or hundreds of girls (and a handful of guys) message me or friend me and whatnot just because of writing here. And that's a better and more fulfilling way of "selling myself" to show you what I bring to the table in an exchange that forms any relationship, than any sort of bullshit e-mail or profile "about me" that I could ever write.
I also bet it does better with attracting people than the bullshit form-letters and random poorly-written short "I want you to do this for me" messages that many of you are sending.
Yesterday evening, @Diotima and I were hanging out on the porch and bullshitting, like many nights, when the conversation turned to the types of messages she gets on FetLife. She showed them to me. She read a half dozen to me and they were fucking groan-inducing to an almost nauseating level. Pathetic barely covers it. And the dumpster fire of grammatical mistakes were an indictment of the short-bus level of English language mastery found here by most of you. Sadly, this was the expected part of my disappointment. I knew you were going to get bullshit LULZ txt speak, poor punctuation, and generally kindergarten-level vocabulary.
I shouldn't have been as astounded as I was by the other part, but the level of effort put into a completely unsolicited message that most guys here are the fucking reason that I do NOT send messages to random strangers just because their profile interests me. They were pathetic. None of them were more than 3 sentences long and all of them shared one thing in common... what SHE could do for THEM and not what they could do for each other.
Look, any sort of relationship... from the most mundane and minor "person you kinda know" to the most intimate of relationshiops, and everything in between... they all share one thing in common. They're exchanges. Of energy. Of time. Of interests. They're really a business transaction. When one person gives you their time, you exchange yours for it if you value what comes along with their time. They have to have something to offer YOU in order for you to want to give anything back to them. From time to energy to even conversation.
It's amazing how often people that want something from you immediately try to make that request of you simply because they want it. They don't recognize that they're not even offering anything that that other person might have an interest in on their end of the exchange. And that's sad. That's childish. I mean, really.. it's a dehumanization of the one party into nothing more than the means to achieve their fulfillment. And especially coming from submissive males to a dominant female, isn't that the exact opposite way that it should realistically be approached?
It's because of these types of guys that I don't send messages to people. And that's kinda sad.
I don't make any effort because it's kind of a waste of time for me to sit and write messages to people based on what I see or like in their profile and then offer things about myself that they may like. Not when 99 out of 100 messages they recieve are bullshit requests of them and that 1 gets lost in the shuffle. And with the types of girls that I tend to be interested in, their mailboxes tend to lean more towards the "full" side. And I really REALLY don't have any desire to waste time competing just to get mine read against the tsunami of suck that makes up the rest of their mailboxes. Sorry. Just because they didn't get the notification that I am the awesomest man in the world doesn't mean that I need to go around and personally inform all of the unwashed masses out there of this universal truth. They need to watch the news more often.
I guess I could take the "form letter" approach and see who bites. But then again, do I really have any interest in the types that fall for the "form letter" approach? They probably also are still waiting for their money from that Nigerian prince or the dead British uncle and wondering why they bounced last month's rent check. The form letter is nothing but a fucking resume. And I'm damn sure not applying for any positions with anyone else. That's their job. They get to fill out MY application. Because I'm better than everyone else. Obviously.
I have no objection to competing for attention from girls. Because most of the time, I will win. Or I'll find a way to win. I might not get that girl, but I'll have fun in the process because I don't care about the outcome. I'll either have fun by getting that girl or I'll have fun by amusing myself with jokes or whatever, but that's not really the way the game works on the intarwubz. And I have absolutely no desire to "sell myself" like that just to strike up a conversation with a girl that I'll get bored with in 2 weeks anyway. There's a reason I don't do sales. Because while I could sell ice to an eskimo, and nuclear power to the Japanese, I also have no desire to deal with the endless soul-suck that comes with trying to sell people shit. Myself included.
So that's why I write. I write to amuse myself and because I don't care about the results. That's why I do this. But I also recognize that there's a secondary result of effectively "selling myself" as who I really am and not just what I want people to think by throwing out my thoughts for mass-consumption. I've gotten dozens or hundreds of girls (and a handful of guys) message me or friend me and whatnot just because of writing here. And that's a better and more fulfilling way of "selling myself" to show you what I bring to the table in an exchange that forms any relationship, than any sort of bullshit e-mail or profile "about me" that I could ever write.
I also bet it does better with attracting people than the bullshit form-letters and random poorly-written short "I want you to do this for me" messages that many of you are sending.
Random Thought Of The Day #728
Day 728
Did you all watch that guy jump out of fucking space and parachute back to earth yesterday? Dude... he jumped out of fucking SPACE!
I could have totally done it. And I wouldn't have even needed any sort of fruity space suit thing either. Pussy. And you mean to tell me he couldn't have waited another 20 seconds to pull his ripcord and break the free-fall record? Come on, you sissy. Just sack up and wait to pull that ripcord
Also on the lists of things that I can do better than you or anyone else... Make whiny bitches cry, ruin the self-esteem of girls, make jokes at the expense of the disabled, minorities, white people, vegans, straight people, and just about everyone else, and just generally be a an unapologetic asshole.
You're welcome. You can pay tribute to me at your earliest convenience. Your tribute will determine your place in the new world once Bailey is elected President and I have immanentized the eschaton as his translator. Because that's how it works. And that is how it will work in Bailey's America.
On an entirely unrelated note... I got shot in the eye with girl cum last night and it didn't burn nearly as bad as I expected. So all you girls out there complaining when I get it in your eyes? Man the fuck up. That glazed-donut face is something we can all deal with. Even when it gets you in the eye.
I could have totally done it. And I wouldn't have even needed any sort of fruity space suit thing either. Pussy. And you mean to tell me he couldn't have waited another 20 seconds to pull his ripcord and break the free-fall record? Come on, you sissy. Just sack up and wait to pull that ripcord
Also on the lists of things that I can do better than you or anyone else... Make whiny bitches cry, ruin the self-esteem of girls, make jokes at the expense of the disabled, minorities, white people, vegans, straight people, and just about everyone else, and just generally be a an unapologetic asshole.You're welcome. You can pay tribute to me at your earliest convenience. Your tribute will determine your place in the new world once Bailey is elected President and I have immanentized the eschaton as his translator. Because that's how it works. And that is how it will work in Bailey's America.
On an entirely unrelated note... I got shot in the eye with girl cum last night and it didn't burn nearly as bad as I expected. So all you girls out there complaining when I get it in your eyes? Man the fuck up. That glazed-donut face is something we can all deal with. Even when it gets you in the eye.
Friday, October 12, 2012
Random Thought Of The Day #727
Day 727
The level of bullshit, petty, and otherwise juvenile playground politics around this city is bordering on intolerable.
One warning, children.
Stop. It. Now.
I had to stop myself from writing what I REALLY wanted to write this morning because it was not appropriate.
This was your warning. Start acting like adults again. Because you're not doing it now. And daddy will start taking away your toys soon if you don't.
The level of bullshit, petty, and otherwise juvenile playground politics around this city is bordering on intolerable.
One warning, children.
Stop. It. Now.
I had to stop myself from writing what I REALLY wanted to write this morning because it was not appropriate.
This was your warning. Start acting like adults again. Because you're not doing it now. And daddy will start taking away your toys soon if you don't.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Random Thought Of The Day #726
Day 726
I love tits. I just love them. Big and small, though I admit that I'm especially fond of big tits.
I've always been a boobs guy. They're fucking awesome. Firm and bouncy, they really are fun bags. And they make great pillows. They're handles to hold onto when you need something to grab from behind. There's just so many wonderful uses for them. Plus, they look great.
Now don't get me wrong, I love a great ass too, but I'm WAYYYY more picky about the specs on what I would consider a "great ass" than I am when it comes to a great pair of tits. I like an ass that I can get a good grip on with just 1 hand per cheek. I prefer the more grippable ass (yes, I just made that up) to the bouncy ass.
Though maybe that makes me a tit man and an ass connoisseur? I don't know... Tits should be big and asses should be small.
Or maybe I'm just a superficial pig. But I think I'm ok with that.
So what about you? Which body part is the one that first draws your attention? And don't give me that bullshit about "oh, it's their eyes"... unless you can stick their eyes in your vagina or they've got a glass eye and you can literally skull-fuck them, it doesn't count. You might dig the eyes, but what body part is the one that you just get giddy over?
I love tits. I just love them. Big and small, though I admit that I'm especially fond of big tits.
I've always been a boobs guy. They're fucking awesome. Firm and bouncy, they really are fun bags. And they make great pillows. They're handles to hold onto when you need something to grab from behind. There's just so many wonderful uses for them. Plus, they look great.
Now don't get me wrong, I love a great ass too, but I'm WAYYYY more picky about the specs on what I would consider a "great ass" than I am when it comes to a great pair of tits. I like an ass that I can get a good grip on with just 1 hand per cheek. I prefer the more grippable ass (yes, I just made that up) to the bouncy ass.
Though maybe that makes me a tit man and an ass connoisseur? I don't know... Tits should be big and asses should be small.
Or maybe I'm just a superficial pig. But I think I'm ok with that.
So what about you? Which body part is the one that first draws your attention? And don't give me that bullshit about "oh, it's their eyes"... unless you can stick their eyes in your vagina or they've got a glass eye and you can literally skull-fuck them, it doesn't count. You might dig the eyes, but what body part is the one that you just get giddy over?
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Random Thought Of The Day #725
Day 725
I think I need to start recording the conversations that I have at bars with my friends again. And restaurants. Because I often can't remember how I managed to go from discussing Terminators to Santa Claus in 4 easy steps without a voice recorder. I have one built into my phone, so it's not that hard. I really often don't remember how I even get from one topic to another, or even which all topics I hit in rapid succession like that. It's like a random thought but spoken. I might remember one or 2 of the things I hit, but I don't remember the whole sequence, especially when drinking, and it's a lot funnier if I had the whole thing.
Additionally, there's a good reason for me to record them. Tax deductions.
See, the thing that I've found out about writing and (once I begin) generating income from it is that I am able to write off any expense associated with writing as a "research expense". When I use the events or conversations that come from that dinner or bar trip as material for the book, it's a research expense to generate new material for the next book. If I get into a fight with a tiger, my hospital bills are a tax deduction if I write the story in the next book. If I just go and spend money on strippers and write about that experience in the next book, tax write-off as a research expense. And a voice recorder can be the proof. Plus... you know... reciepts.
I wonder if this means that I can use that abortion that I paid for if I write a story about it? I wonder if I should write a story about it? In fact, I think I might write the story about that. But I don't think I have the reciept for it. Cause come on... tell me it wouldn't be hillarious to not only contribute to some girl using abortion as a form of birth control but then write it off as a tax deduction at the end of the year because you got a story out of it? Yeah... double the fun.
See, I used to regularly record the conversations, exchanges with girls, incoherent ramblings, and other bullshit that my friends and I would talk about. We would only remember about half of it, and want to remember some of the better lines and exchanges later on, so we started recording them. There were a number of truly unforgettable ones that we would have remembered without a voice recorder, but some of other really good ones that were lost in the shuffle of truly exceptional one-liners and exchanges were the gems that a voice recorder preserved for posterity.
I don't know exactly why we stopped using it. Maybe because some of it could have been used as evidence? I don't know. We did some fucked up shit. We talked about even more fucked up shit. And lord only knows what might have been on some of those recordings. But regardless, we stopped using it after a while.
One example of the conversations that we captured on it that would have otherwise been lost to the flies on the walls of Eat N Park. Somehow the topic ended up on which animals certain former-significant-others resembled, this exchanged occured
Me: "What about you, Rage?"
Rage: "Aubrey... that's simple. A sheep."
*Laughter* [She really did look like a sheep]
Rage: "That's where they get steel wool from, that rigid bitch"
Plus, there's the added benefit of being able to make fun of how people sound on audio recordings. I always love making fun of the sound of my own voice on there. I refuse to believe that I sound like every audio recording of me makes me sound.
In entirely unrelated news, I have an awesome zombie T-shirt design idea. I just need to sketch it out and have it printed. I have also not forgotten about the Epsilon Phi shirts. If you want to order them from CafePress, you'll pay their little premium, but you can get whatever shirt you want and I don't have to take "orders" or anything. The link is here
Cafe Press Epsilon Phi Design
You know... in case you want to buy one. I have also not forgotten that I am still looking into getting one of the other designs I put together printed by another site, but then I have to collect money and take orders and shit. And that's... you know... work. And I don't wanna do work.
I think I need to start recording the conversations that I have at bars with my friends again. And restaurants. Because I often can't remember how I managed to go from discussing Terminators to Santa Claus in 4 easy steps without a voice recorder. I have one built into my phone, so it's not that hard. I really often don't remember how I even get from one topic to another, or even which all topics I hit in rapid succession like that. It's like a random thought but spoken. I might remember one or 2 of the things I hit, but I don't remember the whole sequence, especially when drinking, and it's a lot funnier if I had the whole thing. Additionally, there's a good reason for me to record them. Tax deductions.
See, the thing that I've found out about writing and (once I begin) generating income from it is that I am able to write off any expense associated with writing as a "research expense". When I use the events or conversations that come from that dinner or bar trip as material for the book, it's a research expense to generate new material for the next book. If I get into a fight with a tiger, my hospital bills are a tax deduction if I write the story in the next book. If I just go and spend money on strippers and write about that experience in the next book, tax write-off as a research expense. And a voice recorder can be the proof. Plus... you know... reciepts.
I wonder if this means that I can use that abortion that I paid for if I write a story about it? I wonder if I should write a story about it? In fact, I think I might write the story about that. But I don't think I have the reciept for it. Cause come on... tell me it wouldn't be hillarious to not only contribute to some girl using abortion as a form of birth control but then write it off as a tax deduction at the end of the year because you got a story out of it? Yeah... double the fun.
See, I used to regularly record the conversations, exchanges with girls, incoherent ramblings, and other bullshit that my friends and I would talk about. We would only remember about half of it, and want to remember some of the better lines and exchanges later on, so we started recording them. There were a number of truly unforgettable ones that we would have remembered without a voice recorder, but some of other really good ones that were lost in the shuffle of truly exceptional one-liners and exchanges were the gems that a voice recorder preserved for posterity.
I don't know exactly why we stopped using it. Maybe because some of it could have been used as evidence? I don't know. We did some fucked up shit. We talked about even more fucked up shit. And lord only knows what might have been on some of those recordings. But regardless, we stopped using it after a while.
One example of the conversations that we captured on it that would have otherwise been lost to the flies on the walls of Eat N Park. Somehow the topic ended up on which animals certain former-significant-others resembled, this exchanged occured
Me: "What about you, Rage?"Rage: "Aubrey... that's simple. A sheep."
*Laughter* [She really did look like a sheep]
Rage: "That's where they get steel wool from, that rigid bitch"
Plus, there's the added benefit of being able to make fun of how people sound on audio recordings. I always love making fun of the sound of my own voice on there. I refuse to believe that I sound like every audio recording of me makes me sound.
In entirely unrelated news, I have an awesome zombie T-shirt design idea. I just need to sketch it out and have it printed. I have also not forgotten about the Epsilon Phi shirts. If you want to order them from CafePress, you'll pay their little premium, but you can get whatever shirt you want and I don't have to take "orders" or anything. The link is here
Cafe Press Epsilon Phi Design
You know... in case you want to buy one. I have also not forgotten that I am still looking into getting one of the other designs I put together printed by another site, but then I have to collect money and take orders and shit. And that's... you know... work. And I don't wanna do work.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Random Thought Of The Day #724
Day 724
Some broad in the UK went out drinking for her 18th birthday and had to have her stomach removed after drinking a shot with liquid nitrogen involved...
I'm not sure which "at least she'll stay skinny" jokes I should use here... Looks like she doesn't have to worry about the Freshman 15 anymore? In fact, she's kinda cute, for a Brit with fucked up teeth. So she's gonna make some guy a very good wife. Never have to worry about her losing her figure, I guess? Its like a preventative gastric bypass surgery? I'm really not sure if we can call this a tragedy or not?
What's your favorite?
I think I might be going to hell for that one. Or rather, just securing my position by resume building so I can guarantee myself the big chair.
Though I think my fat ass could use a little bit of that as well.
On a slightly related note, the article about this had an interview with a professor of food physics.
Wait... that's an actual career? Food physics? Does it involve the flight patterns of popcorn when shot out of a popcorn canister? Cause they make those! The effects of slipping on a banana peal? The proper way to build a potato gun?
Food physics sounds like fucking awesome. Does that mean my beer gun and my other meat juice gun (for marinading the bullshit burgers at the Kinknic) qualified me as doing amateur food physics? I can totally get behind this idea. I want to know exactly how far you can take food physics. Does it extend all the way to a mentos and diet coke enema? Can you get a job at UL for this? Cause I always kinda wanted to go work at Underwriters Laboratories. Get paid to break the fuck out of shit all day every day? Yes, please!
Don't gotta twist my fucking arm there.
I'm not sure which "at least she'll stay skinny" jokes I should use here... Looks like she doesn't have to worry about the Freshman 15 anymore? In fact, she's kinda cute, for a Brit with fucked up teeth. So she's gonna make some guy a very good wife. Never have to worry about her losing her figure, I guess? Its like a preventative gastric bypass surgery? I'm really not sure if we can call this a tragedy or not? What's your favorite?
I think I might be going to hell for that one. Or rather, just securing my position by resume building so I can guarantee myself the big chair.
Though I think my fat ass could use a little bit of that as well.
On a slightly related note, the article about this had an interview with a professor of food physics. Wait... that's an actual career? Food physics? Does it involve the flight patterns of popcorn when shot out of a popcorn canister? Cause they make those! The effects of slipping on a banana peal? The proper way to build a potato gun?
Food physics sounds like fucking awesome. Does that mean my beer gun and my other meat juice gun (for marinading the bullshit burgers at the Kinknic) qualified me as doing amateur food physics? I can totally get behind this idea. I want to know exactly how far you can take food physics. Does it extend all the way to a mentos and diet coke enema? Can you get a job at UL for this? Cause I always kinda wanted to go work at Underwriters Laboratories. Get paid to break the fuck out of shit all day every day? Yes, please!
Don't gotta twist my fucking arm there.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Random Thought Of The Day #723
Day 723
I'm quite jaded and cynical. Getting an honestly excited reaction from me for must of anything is hard. Unless it's something that I come up with. Sorry. Most of the time, things that everyone else thinks are or would be fun to do are things I've already done a dozen or more times. The fun ran out after the first 3 times.
My cynicism is really never more fully on display than when it comes to dating.
Maybe I'm still too much of a hopeless romantic. To a degree, my relationship wants & needs seem to appear further and further from being found in anyone else. And in a way, when you read the entirety of my thoughts and throw out all the excess crap, mindless-self-indulgence, inane ramblings, and self-aggrandizement that I occasionally throw out there for mass consumption, you could make a case that I've written a weird series of posts that could be cut down into one big Classified ad. Desperately Seeking A Perfect Contradiction.
I've written extensively on my theory regarding potential partners. At least from the straight male perspective. I already graced you with my theories of the types of women you will find. That we look for 3 things in a woman. Sexy, Sane, and Single. And we can pick 2 of those.
I've written about my kinks for bimbofication. And while that could theoretically be a contradiction to the "sane" part of my wants and needs, it doesn't have to be. There's a line between one that's nothing more than a life support system for a vagina and someone who actually has intelligence but can simply turn her brain on and off.
I've written about my partiality to monogamy, while being more mono-flexible and espousing the virtues of the slut. Defending my love of whorish behavior by my continued magnetic attraction of it. And with how often I end up with bisexual women, strict monogamy isn't in the cards. I've dated 1 totally straight girl in the past decade, and it was the closest thing I've had to a normal relationship in that time. And it's also the only one that had a ZERO percent chance of working out in the long term from day 1.
I haven't really talked about how much I'd love a simple existence with a nice girl, because it's really not funny. But I really do. In a strange way, I want what my parents have. I won't get into that too much, but going on 40 years of marriage for them, and they're happy. They have their rocky patches like everyone, but in a way, that makes them work better. I think that's the same for every solid relationship. The small bumps in the road solidifies things, while too many would shake apart even the most well-bonded chemical known to man. You need the perfect balance of perfect and imperfect to really alloy a relationship without so much chaos as to tear it apart. Many people get lucky and find that. Many more do not. Many go too long with calm seas that they don't know how to weather a rough storm and many see so many rough storms that they abandon ship and head for high ground and eventually find a new ship.
I don't know where I'm really going with this. I guess that, to some degree, I'm doing nothing more than summarizing all of the relationship wants and needs I've discovered and thrown out there in writing, as well as some that I've kept more tight to the vest. So I don't know. I just know that whatever I'm doing or whatever it is that I've been looking for out there, it either doesn't seem to exist or I'm just really looking in the wrong places, or asking the wrong questions, or maybe just not really explaining what I'm looking for particularly well. For all I talk and write, based on the replies I get, sometimes the point of what I write seems to get lost in the big pile of words that go with it.
So who knows... feel free to disregard this or whatever. I'm not entirely sure even what my point was here. Maybe it's a cautionary tale to not figure out too much of EXACTLY what you want or you end up spending most of your relationships running through a checklist and seeing how close you can come to your idealized partner without ever finding them. Even the flaws that you love about the idealization. Because the only place that an idealization exists is in your head. Reality rarely matches expectations.
Or the short version? Yeah, I'm single, dating sucks, I'm no closer to finding what I want in another person than I was when I was 19, and if anything, I'm further away because of "figuring out what I want".
So yes, this was a whiny bitch post disguised as "meaningful self-examination"
Now I need a beer and another meaningless sexual encounter with a morally questionable slut that I will probably hate myself for after I've gotten over the euphoria of an orgasm.
Happy Monday.
I'm quite jaded and cynical. Getting an honestly excited reaction from me for must of anything is hard. Unless it's something that I come up with. Sorry. Most of the time, things that everyone else thinks are or would be fun to do are things I've already done a dozen or more times. The fun ran out after the first 3 times.
My cynicism is really never more fully on display than when it comes to dating.
Maybe I'm still too much of a hopeless romantic. To a degree, my relationship wants & needs seem to appear further and further from being found in anyone else. And in a way, when you read the entirety of my thoughts and throw out all the excess crap, mindless-self-indulgence, inane ramblings, and self-aggrandizement that I occasionally throw out there for mass consumption, you could make a case that I've written a weird series of posts that could be cut down into one big Classified ad. Desperately Seeking A Perfect Contradiction.
I've written extensively on my theory regarding potential partners. At least from the straight male perspective. I already graced you with my theories of the types of women you will find. That we look for 3 things in a woman. Sexy, Sane, and Single. And we can pick 2 of those.
I've written about my kinks for bimbofication. And while that could theoretically be a contradiction to the "sane" part of my wants and needs, it doesn't have to be. There's a line between one that's nothing more than a life support system for a vagina and someone who actually has intelligence but can simply turn her brain on and off.
I've written about my partiality to monogamy, while being more mono-flexible and espousing the virtues of the slut. Defending my love of whorish behavior by my continued magnetic attraction of it. And with how often I end up with bisexual women, strict monogamy isn't in the cards. I've dated 1 totally straight girl in the past decade, and it was the closest thing I've had to a normal relationship in that time. And it's also the only one that had a ZERO percent chance of working out in the long term from day 1.
I haven't really talked about how much I'd love a simple existence with a nice girl, because it's really not funny. But I really do. In a strange way, I want what my parents have. I won't get into that too much, but going on 40 years of marriage for them, and they're happy. They have their rocky patches like everyone, but in a way, that makes them work better. I think that's the same for every solid relationship. The small bumps in the road solidifies things, while too many would shake apart even the most well-bonded chemical known to man. You need the perfect balance of perfect and imperfect to really alloy a relationship without so much chaos as to tear it apart. Many people get lucky and find that. Many more do not. Many go too long with calm seas that they don't know how to weather a rough storm and many see so many rough storms that they abandon ship and head for high ground and eventually find a new ship.
I don't know where I'm really going with this. I guess that, to some degree, I'm doing nothing more than summarizing all of the relationship wants and needs I've discovered and thrown out there in writing, as well as some that I've kept more tight to the vest. So I don't know. I just know that whatever I'm doing or whatever it is that I've been looking for out there, it either doesn't seem to exist or I'm just really looking in the wrong places, or asking the wrong questions, or maybe just not really explaining what I'm looking for particularly well. For all I talk and write, based on the replies I get, sometimes the point of what I write seems to get lost in the big pile of words that go with it.
So who knows... feel free to disregard this or whatever. I'm not entirely sure even what my point was here. Maybe it's a cautionary tale to not figure out too much of EXACTLY what you want or you end up spending most of your relationships running through a checklist and seeing how close you can come to your idealized partner without ever finding them. Even the flaws that you love about the idealization. Because the only place that an idealization exists is in your head. Reality rarely matches expectations.
Or the short version? Yeah, I'm single, dating sucks, I'm no closer to finding what I want in another person than I was when I was 19, and if anything, I'm further away because of "figuring out what I want".
So yes, this was a whiny bitch post disguised as "meaningful self-examination"
Now I need a beer and another meaningless sexual encounter with a morally questionable slut that I will probably hate myself for after I've gotten over the euphoria of an orgasm.
Happy Monday.
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