Day 757
I don't even know what to say at this point. I really don't. Internet Christmas came yesterday and made my fucking year. Hell, I was so happy with what Santa brought me that I didn't even really care that my actually kinda good writing from yesterday got totally ignored in the shuffle.
Internet Christmas. The holiday that is on no calendar on Earth and never will be. Because it's the day that can show up anytime. Whenever the best that the intarwubz has to offer becomes put on full display for its users is when our new favorite holiday falls. I'd almost be willing to agree that there is a super special Internet Christmas for every single person in the world, but I think any sort of REAL holiday would need to be the time or moment when EVERYONE is so overcome with joy and amusement that the eyes of all of the collective corners of the intertron turn in on this event. That is the moment of the Internet Christmas celebration. The birth of some absolutely horrendous trainwreck that you can't help but stare at, even though it makes you feel maybe a little dirty.
I still can't entirely decide if that was the greatest Fet trolling I've seen in years or if it was serious. Or if it was a little bit of both. Because that was some pretty epic trolling. Intentional or otherwise. I actually bow to his trollness. So at least we figured out where the king part is.
Thank you again, @Diotima for starting this yesterday. And oh thank the Electronic Santa for delivering all of the self-titled notes from our retarded little friend. You delivered Internet Christmas to me and thousands of others. I even left some virtual milk and cookies out for you last night. They're over on RedTube. You might not want to eat the cookie before you get the girl dressed like Mrs Claus tested thought. We're not entirely sure where it's been, or she has been.
I'm going to go back to recovering from drinking for the 14th night in a row and getting less than 3 hours of sleep for the 5th consecutive night this week! So basically, huddled in my desk chair, trying to keep warm and stave off the tremens until I either vomit or feel like I'm capable of holding down actual food and water.
And a Merry Internet Christmas to all, and to all a good night!
Friday, November 30, 2012
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Life Changes - RTOTD #756
Day 756
With age comes change. An evolution of sorts. Things that were once good become bad, and many that were once bad become good. Things that you thought were stupid become fun and so on and so forth. It was once said by someone who I don't really care to look up that if you were under 30 and not a liberal, you have no heart, while if you were over 30 and not a conservative, you have no brain. Your life changes and you change with it. Sometimes for the better, and sometimes for the worse. I wanted to talk about that today.
But not the "for the better" shit. Cause that's just really useless for cracking jokes. Fuck that.
No, the "for the worse" side of getting older is a lot more fun. For instance... do you know what the last few weeks have taught me? That I'm not nearly as good at punishing my body with a constant and mostly-steady stream of poison being poured into it as I used to be. Maybe the decade and a half of pouring that poison into my stomache and lungs and liver has just finally taken its toll. I've drank at least a little bit every day for almost 2 weeks, with the exception of Monday evening. And I've got more drinking to go tonight. And fuck, tomorrow is the weekend? So looks like that bottle is gonna be calling me again!
It started to resonate this morning. Yeah, sure. Saturday morning/afternoon/whatever, when I walked into LAR's birthday brunch thing and could barely keep my eyes both looking in the same direciton or quiet the construction crew working inside my skull to a dull enough roar that I could actually hear the people around me, that was bad. In fact, that was the most hung-over I've been in years. But this morning is really when it's beginning to resonate.
After waking up at about 4:30 yesterday morning in order to take the roomie to the airport, I spent a full day at work. Sadly, that 4:30 had not been preceeded by going to bed early and all of those other things you might use a bunch of big, fancy words like "mature" or "responsible" or "good idea" to describe. Fuck those things. No, I finally went to sleep at just shy of 1:30. Because 3 hours of sleep is fucking plenty.
Well, that would have been fine. I could have done the smart thing and went to bed at a reasonable time last night and getting aa full night sleep. I could have napped after work or any number of other things that you'd go back and use those same big fancy words to describe. But no. Fuck that and fuck your "reasoned, mature, and non-self-destructive" ideas of how to take care of your body and not have it hate you. It's like you don't even know me at all.
The muslims like to say that their bodies are temples. Granted, temples that they sometimes need plastic explosives to demolish, along with the 30 or 40 other temples all around them, but still... temples. Well, I think they're not as smart as me. Temples are boring. They're filled with stuffy old people and you have to whisper and all that's really in them are hard, uncomfortable long couch things, and well... they just smell funny. I, on the other hand, because I am smarter than them, treat my body like an amusement park. Because amusement parks are an awful lot better than temples. And they have motherfucking rollercoasters. Temples are quite rollercoasterless. This is a major selling point in the "temple" vs "amusement park" argument. And why I'm smarter than them for chosing rollercoasters at the amusement park to their stuffy little "temple" bullshit.
Well, as I was saying, I could certainly have done something intelligent and went to sleep at a reasonable time. I could have. But where's the fun in that shit? I had poison to pour into my body and I'll sleep when I'm fucking dead. So what did I do instead? On only 3 hours of sleep and after being awake for almost 16 hours before I even left my house last night? Did I sleep?
Nope. A friend was having a birthday celebration and let's be honest here... can you REALLY call it a party until I show up? Fuck no. I AM the motherfucking party. And so, in a fit of genius I got to the birthday celebrations around 8:30 last night and began drinking purposefully. I was diligent in my drinking. Beer after beer. Shot after shot. And 5 more hours later, I was finally venturing home.
The problem is... I was back up at 5:30 this morning. After not getting home until 1:30ish.
6 or 7 years ago? I'd call that a typical wednesday. Today... I'm very ashamed to say... that my drinking tires are starting to get a little threadbare. The wear and tear is showing. They don't grip the road in the way that they used to, leaving me skidding and screeching a little more and a little more every time I turn the car left towards "get up and go to work" or right towards "be a responsible adult with a real adult job".
Maybe I'm in need of some re-treads?
Or maybe it's not analogous to wear on a car part that can only get more and more worn down until it has to be replaced. Maybe it's the way that I saw it in highschool and college. As a sport. And I, am an athlete in the prime of his career that hasn't been doing enough practice. I've been just playing the games for a while now, and skipping the practice. The solution is not to "SLOW DOWN" as some would lead you to believe. But rather, the real solution is to "DRINK MORE OFTEN". But maybe not to in the same quantities daily. I need practice days where I only drink SOME but not as much. And then, when game day hits, I'm not going in cold.
See, I forgot that practice was needed. I had natural drinking skills. Drunk on a weeknight was nothing. Drunk and waking up in the morning? Fuck, I called that Tuesday. 3 nights of drinking in a week? Pshhhh... no fucking problem. 4 or 5 nights of drinking? Now we're getting somewhere. 5 or 6 nights a week? All of them ending with "wake up and go to work in the morning" attached? That's what I call the big leagues.
Or, maybe a doctor would call it, you know... functional alcoholism. But what the fuck does he know, right?
So yes, I think that while I'm not 24, I have all the natural drinking skill needed to remaster this form. I just need to practice to keep up my conditioning. I relied on pure skill when I was younger, and I will NOT allow myself to become the Alexander Daigle of drinking. All the skill, none of the work ethic to make the effort and keep up on conditioning.
And while I'm at it? I need to remember the one axiom I was taught in Pee Wee Hockey. "You Play Like You Practice, So Practice Like You Want To Play". So gimme a couple months to work on my conditioning and rebuild my stamina and recouperating abilities. And then... then you'll remember why I walk into a room and people start chanting "The Champ is Here! The Champ is Here!"
With age comes change. An evolution of sorts. Things that were once good become bad, and many that were once bad become good. Things that you thought were stupid become fun and so on and so forth. It was once said by someone who I don't really care to look up that if you were under 30 and not a liberal, you have no heart, while if you were over 30 and not a conservative, you have no brain. Your life changes and you change with it. Sometimes for the better, and sometimes for the worse. I wanted to talk about that today.But not the "for the better" shit. Cause that's just really useless for cracking jokes. Fuck that.
No, the "for the worse" side of getting older is a lot more fun. For instance... do you know what the last few weeks have taught me? That I'm not nearly as good at punishing my body with a constant and mostly-steady stream of poison being poured into it as I used to be. Maybe the decade and a half of pouring that poison into my stomache and lungs and liver has just finally taken its toll. I've drank at least a little bit every day for almost 2 weeks, with the exception of Monday evening. And I've got more drinking to go tonight. And fuck, tomorrow is the weekend? So looks like that bottle is gonna be calling me again!It started to resonate this morning. Yeah, sure. Saturday morning/afternoon/whatever, when I walked into LAR's birthday brunch thing and could barely keep my eyes both looking in the same direciton or quiet the construction crew working inside my skull to a dull enough roar that I could actually hear the people around me, that was bad. In fact, that was the most hung-over I've been in years. But this morning is really when it's beginning to resonate.
After waking up at about 4:30 yesterday morning in order to take the roomie to the airport, I spent a full day at work. Sadly, that 4:30 had not been preceeded by going to bed early and all of those other things you might use a bunch of big, fancy words like "mature" or "responsible" or "good idea" to describe. Fuck those things. No, I finally went to sleep at just shy of 1:30. Because 3 hours of sleep is fucking plenty. Well, that would have been fine. I could have done the smart thing and went to bed at a reasonable time last night and getting aa full night sleep. I could have napped after work or any number of other things that you'd go back and use those same big fancy words to describe. But no. Fuck that and fuck your "reasoned, mature, and non-self-destructive" ideas of how to take care of your body and not have it hate you. It's like you don't even know me at all.
The muslims like to say that their bodies are temples. Granted, temples that they sometimes need plastic explosives to demolish, along with the 30 or 40 other temples all around them, but still... temples. Well, I think they're not as smart as me. Temples are boring. They're filled with stuffy old people and you have to whisper and all that's really in them are hard, uncomfortable long couch things, and well... they just smell funny. I, on the other hand, because I am smarter than them, treat my body like an amusement park. Because amusement parks are an awful lot better than temples. And they have motherfucking rollercoasters. Temples are quite rollercoasterless. This is a major selling point in the "temple" vs "amusement park" argument. And why I'm smarter than them for chosing rollercoasters at the amusement park to their stuffy little "temple" bullshit. Well, as I was saying, I could certainly have done something intelligent and went to sleep at a reasonable time. I could have. But where's the fun in that shit? I had poison to pour into my body and I'll sleep when I'm fucking dead. So what did I do instead? On only 3 hours of sleep and after being awake for almost 16 hours before I even left my house last night? Did I sleep?
Nope. A friend was having a birthday celebration and let's be honest here... can you REALLY call it a party until I show up? Fuck no. I AM the motherfucking party. And so, in a fit of genius I got to the birthday celebrations around 8:30 last night and began drinking purposefully. I was diligent in my drinking. Beer after beer. Shot after shot. And 5 more hours later, I was finally venturing home.
The problem is... I was back up at 5:30 this morning. After not getting home until 1:30ish.
6 or 7 years ago? I'd call that a typical wednesday. Today... I'm very ashamed to say... that my drinking tires are starting to get a little threadbare. The wear and tear is showing. They don't grip the road in the way that they used to, leaving me skidding and screeching a little more and a little more every time I turn the car left towards "get up and go to work" or right towards "be a responsible adult with a real adult job". Maybe I'm in need of some re-treads?
Or maybe it's not analogous to wear on a car part that can only get more and more worn down until it has to be replaced. Maybe it's the way that I saw it in highschool and college. As a sport. And I, am an athlete in the prime of his career that hasn't been doing enough practice. I've been just playing the games for a while now, and skipping the practice. The solution is not to "SLOW DOWN" as some would lead you to believe. But rather, the real solution is to "DRINK MORE OFTEN". But maybe not to in the same quantities daily. I need practice days where I only drink SOME but not as much. And then, when game day hits, I'm not going in cold.
See, I forgot that practice was needed. I had natural drinking skills. Drunk on a weeknight was nothing. Drunk and waking up in the morning? Fuck, I called that Tuesday. 3 nights of drinking in a week? Pshhhh... no fucking problem. 4 or 5 nights of drinking? Now we're getting somewhere. 5 or 6 nights a week? All of them ending with "wake up and go to work in the morning" attached? That's what I call the big leagues.
Or, maybe a doctor would call it, you know... functional alcoholism. But what the fuck does he know, right?
So yes, I think that while I'm not 24, I have all the natural drinking skill needed to remaster this form. I just need to practice to keep up my conditioning. I relied on pure skill when I was younger, and I will NOT allow myself to become the Alexander Daigle of drinking. All the skill, none of the work ethic to make the effort and keep up on conditioning.
And while I'm at it? I need to remember the one axiom I was taught in Pee Wee Hockey. "You Play Like You Practice, So Practice Like You Want To Play". So gimme a couple months to work on my conditioning and rebuild my stamina and recouperating abilities. And then... then you'll remember why I walk into a room and people start chanting "The Champ is Here! The Champ is Here!"
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
The LULZ of economics - RTOTD #755.1
Day 755.1
Well, look how that worked out.. The UK added a 50% tax bracket for millionaires last year. Their number of million £ earners mysteriously dropped from 16,000 to 6,000.
Weird? It's almost like... People with money will take it where it's treated the best? I mean... Who would have ever guessed that would happen? Oh right... Every fiscal conservative ever.
And even more mysteriously, when they announced that the rate would drop back to 45% this year, and that 6,000 number astonishingly jumped back up to 10,000 people!
Weird, ain't it? I mean... People don't want to pay a shitload of taxes when they can just take their money elsewhere? I am amazed.
Oh, and the cherry on top of all of this.... Instead of ADDING revenue after the rich guy tax hike? Britain ended up bringing in £7 Billion LESS than before the tax increase.
LOL!
Well, look how that worked out.. The UK added a 50% tax bracket for millionaires last year. Their number of million £ earners mysteriously dropped from 16,000 to 6,000.
Weird? It's almost like... People with money will take it where it's treated the best? I mean... Who would have ever guessed that would happen? Oh right... Every fiscal conservative ever.
And even more mysteriously, when they announced that the rate would drop back to 45% this year, and that 6,000 number astonishingly jumped back up to 10,000 people!
Weird, ain't it? I mean... People don't want to pay a shitload of taxes when they can just take their money elsewhere? I am amazed.
Oh, and the cherry on top of all of this.... Instead of ADDING revenue after the rich guy tax hike? Britain ended up bringing in £7 Billion LESS than before the tax increase.
LOL!
Get Rich, Bitch! - RTOTD #755
Day 755
So we've got a $500 million dollar lottery. This is the only time that I'll buy a ticket. When it has reached some crazy-stupid pot. Because otherwise, the lottery is a tax on the stupid. Sorry, but it is.
You can justify it all you want, but unless it's some ungodly amount and worth the risk of throwing $10 a week or $20 a week or whatever at this lottery, it's just a waste of time. Because if you play the Powerball, you probably play Mega Millions. And if you play them, you probably also play the daily number or the one with 4 numbers and all those other fucking games. You get into back-door numerology with noticing that certain numbers keep showing up and call it a sign that you should play that number. And in the end, all you do is line the coffers of Harrisburg or whatever your state capital is, and set your money on fire. At best, you'll break even in your lifetime while some political hack gets to make a bonus on the interest from your couple hundred or thousand bucks a year, along what the money of thousands of your other fellow suckers in this crapshoot game of pure dumb luck.
But with that said... I think with the pot being a half-billion dollars? I'm willing to throw $20 down on it. I know that my chances of winning are all but zero. And I know that any luck I've earned from Karma or fate or anything else in my life has long-ago been spent on the seemingly endless stream of attractive or even down-right hot women that have found their way into my bed over my lifetime. Hell, I'm probably in the red when it comes to luck with how much of my account balance I've spent on keeping the whore-train rolling into my bedroom. But fuck it, I might as well take the chance. I've blown more on stupider shit in my life.
All that said... When you play one of these games and the risks are so low with the stakes being so high, you can't help but wonder.
What in the fuck would you do with that amount of cash? Invest it? Donate a chunk of it? Help out family and friends? Buy a fuckton of cool shit? Become Batman? (Hint: Become Batman is really the only acceptable option here, but it's ok. I won't judge you for getting the answer wrong)
So what the fuck would you do?
Me? It's simple. Pay off the last of my debt, pay off my house, probably buy the one next door that is for sale, and try to buy up a good chunk of the neighborhood and turn it into a kinky neighborhood where I only rent or sell them to other kinky assholes. It will finally fulfill my dream of being able to do any of the kinky things that I'd like to go to without actually needing to leave my street.
Also, I'd probably put in a pizza, burgers, and bar style place like... right next door. Oh wait, Foli's is only down the street. But that means I need to actually LEAVE my street. I don't wanna!!
Oh, and I'd totally have to out-do the hillbilly that got robbed with a hundred grand in a suitcase in a strip club parking lot. Seriously, who the fuck brings $100,000 to the strip club? Fucking Lil Wayne doesn't even do that shit. And his name is Lil Wayne!
And maybe a Scrooge McDuck Money Bin. Because... Money Bin!
What about you?
So we've got a $500 million dollar lottery. This is the only time that I'll buy a ticket. When it has reached some crazy-stupid pot. Because otherwise, the lottery is a tax on the stupid. Sorry, but it is. You can justify it all you want, but unless it's some ungodly amount and worth the risk of throwing $10 a week or $20 a week or whatever at this lottery, it's just a waste of time. Because if you play the Powerball, you probably play Mega Millions. And if you play them, you probably also play the daily number or the one with 4 numbers and all those other fucking games. You get into back-door numerology with noticing that certain numbers keep showing up and call it a sign that you should play that number. And in the end, all you do is line the coffers of Harrisburg or whatever your state capital is, and set your money on fire. At best, you'll break even in your lifetime while some political hack gets to make a bonus on the interest from your couple hundred or thousand bucks a year, along what the money of thousands of your other fellow suckers in this crapshoot game of pure dumb luck.
But with that said... I think with the pot being a half-billion dollars? I'm willing to throw $20 down on it. I know that my chances of winning are all but zero. And I know that any luck I've earned from Karma or fate or anything else in my life has long-ago been spent on the seemingly endless stream of attractive or even down-right hot women that have found their way into my bed over my lifetime. Hell, I'm probably in the red when it comes to luck with how much of my account balance I've spent on keeping the whore-train rolling into my bedroom. But fuck it, I might as well take the chance. I've blown more on stupider shit in my life.
All that said... When you play one of these games and the risks are so low with the stakes being so high, you can't help but wonder. What in the fuck would you do with that amount of cash? Invest it? Donate a chunk of it? Help out family and friends? Buy a fuckton of cool shit? Become Batman? (Hint: Become Batman is really the only acceptable option here, but it's ok. I won't judge you for getting the answer wrong)
Me? It's simple. Pay off the last of my debt, pay off my house, probably buy the one next door that is for sale, and try to buy up a good chunk of the neighborhood and turn it into a kinky neighborhood where I only rent or sell them to other kinky assholes. It will finally fulfill my dream of being able to do any of the kinky things that I'd like to go to without actually needing to leave my street.
Also, I'd probably put in a pizza, burgers, and bar style place like... right next door. Oh wait, Foli's is only down the street. But that means I need to actually LEAVE my street. I don't wanna!!
Oh, and I'd totally have to out-do the hillbilly that got robbed with a hundred grand in a suitcase in a strip club parking lot. Seriously, who the fuck brings $100,000 to the strip club? Fucking Lil Wayne doesn't even do that shit. And his name is Lil Wayne!
And maybe a Scrooge McDuck Money Bin. Because... Money Bin!
What about you?
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Hunting Season - RTOTD #754.1
Day 754.1
I think we need to reconsider when we begin hunting season going forward. I think the Deer have picked up the scheduling and have started marking this week on their calendar. They're fucking smart. They've been getting smarter too. I mean, I think I saw one look both ways before crossing the road last week. They're more comfortable around people. They just stand along the roads anymore and watch cars fly past without even the slightest amount of freak-out like they used to go through. And I think they've even figured out when we start hunting them now. So we should consider fucking with them and changing hunting season to like... June. Just to totally throw them off and remind them who the fuck is in charge around here.
Just a thought.
Oh... And here's some porn.
I think we need to reconsider when we begin hunting season going forward. I think the Deer have picked up the scheduling and have started marking this week on their calendar. They're fucking smart. They've been getting smarter too. I mean, I think I saw one look both ways before crossing the road last week. They're more comfortable around people. They just stand along the roads anymore and watch cars fly past without even the slightest amount of freak-out like they used to go through. And I think they've even figured out when we start hunting them now. So we should consider fucking with them and changing hunting season to like... June. Just to totally throw them off and remind them who the fuck is in charge around here.
Just a thought.
Oh... And here's some porn.
Uncomfortable - RTOTD #754
Day 754
I've been thinking recently about some of the hotter scenes I've done and realized exactly how many of them did NOT age well. Hindsight tends to be 20/20 on things like this, but from time to time, it's also about 160 over 10. You end up hating someone that you had a scene with, and it colors your memory of that scene. Other times, you had a horrible first scene but kept playing or got
But all that aside, I've realized how uncomfortable I can often be with someone I've never played with. Mostly from adjusting boundaries to suit a scene instead of just social interaction.
See, I'm one of those people where... I tend to have very similar limits with most people. I am not the most touchy-feely type person. I don't mind giving someone a hug when I haven't seen them in a while. I don't mind doing so when saying goodbye. I don't mind throwing an arm over someone's shoulder or anything when I'm bullshitting in a group situation. But I'm not the most physical of people when it comes to regular interaction. I don't generally do the regular touching things that a lot of people do. I like my personal space and mostly try to respect the personal space of others. Close talking even bothers me.
And often, I establish my boundaries with people fairly quickly. What type of physical contact is acceptable. Which is not. Mostly from my own comfort level. And because my comfort level for physical contact tends to be significantly lower than most other people in the kink world, it means that I don't even really need to give a damn where theirs is, because mine probably has a lower threshold for reaching the "this is not comfortable" level than theirs.
The thing is... a lot of that comfort level kinda goes out the window when you're playing with someone. You need to have more contact. You need to establish different lines. You need to be more physical. Significantly more so than I am on a normal basis. You need to establish a different boundary level and work within that new level in the new paradigm. It might only be a temporary change, but someone that you might not normally even touch for more than the rare hug now turns into someone who you're running your hands over.
You go from never even touching to fingers streaking through their hair. From standing 2 feet apart and no closer to your crotch rubbing up against their ass. From shaking hands to a hand around the throat. From not being a close-talker to your hot breath along their neck and beside their ears while whispering horrible things to them.
Your dyanamic changes. You change the game.
The thing is, I'm not always very good at making that change without chemistry before hand. I can't just meet someone and find that they have a similar kink as mine and "hey, let's go indulge that!". That's not really me. And it's why I've had so many scenes that, in retrospect, and maybe even at the time, I realized... "I'm not really feeling this. I'm not comfortable touching this person. I can't get that comfort level for the physical contact that I need in order to enjoy this scene as much as I should and oh god, can they also feel how uncomfortable I am? Are they uncomfortable too? Fuck. I don't like this. I kinda just want to stop it but I don't want to make them feel bad because I wasn't into it or that I was just service Topping them. So maybe I should just grit my teeth and bear it and finish out the scene and never ever do this again with this person until I'm a lot more comfortable with being physical with them." And when the first-time scene sucks, I'm not really likely to try again in order to actually GET a comfort level.
I can't just do pick-up play. It's just not me. I need to connect with the person in order to really enjoy the kink. I need a comfort level and it's often not just a switch that I can flip with someone.
Granted, there are a few people that I can flip the switch with and go from just being normal friendly to physical and close. @Sybele is one of them. There's a few others as well, though she's the one that it's easiest with so it's probably the best example. But otherwise? I can't just switch over. It's just not my thing.
And it's probably why I really don't play very often at this point. Though sometimes, if I get a few hours of getting to know someone before playing, I can play. But a long, established friendship with someone where I've already established a dynamic? I can't adjust.
That was horribly disjointed and poorly written. Let's call this one a rough draft on this topic and leave it at that.
I've been thinking recently about some of the hotter scenes I've done and realized exactly how many of them did NOT age well. Hindsight tends to be 20/20 on things like this, but from time to time, it's also about 160 over 10. You end up hating someone that you had a scene with, and it colors your memory of that scene. Other times, you had a horrible first scene but kept playing or got
But all that aside, I've realized how uncomfortable I can often be with someone I've never played with. Mostly from adjusting boundaries to suit a scene instead of just social interaction.
See, I'm one of those people where... I tend to have very similar limits with most people. I am not the most touchy-feely type person. I don't mind giving someone a hug when I haven't seen them in a while. I don't mind doing so when saying goodbye. I don't mind throwing an arm over someone's shoulder or anything when I'm bullshitting in a group situation. But I'm not the most physical of people when it comes to regular interaction. I don't generally do the regular touching things that a lot of people do. I like my personal space and mostly try to respect the personal space of others. Close talking even bothers me.
And often, I establish my boundaries with people fairly quickly. What type of physical contact is acceptable. Which is not. Mostly from my own comfort level. And because my comfort level for physical contact tends to be significantly lower than most other people in the kink world, it means that I don't even really need to give a damn where theirs is, because mine probably has a lower threshold for reaching the "this is not comfortable" level than theirs.
The thing is... a lot of that comfort level kinda goes out the window when you're playing with someone. You need to have more contact. You need to establish different lines. You need to be more physical. Significantly more so than I am on a normal basis. You need to establish a different boundary level and work within that new level in the new paradigm. It might only be a temporary change, but someone that you might not normally even touch for more than the rare hug now turns into someone who you're running your hands over.
You go from never even touching to fingers streaking through their hair. From standing 2 feet apart and no closer to your crotch rubbing up against their ass. From shaking hands to a hand around the throat. From not being a close-talker to your hot breath along their neck and beside their ears while whispering horrible things to them.
Your dyanamic changes. You change the game.
The thing is, I'm not always very good at making that change without chemistry before hand. I can't just meet someone and find that they have a similar kink as mine and "hey, let's go indulge that!". That's not really me. And it's why I've had so many scenes that, in retrospect, and maybe even at the time, I realized... "I'm not really feeling this. I'm not comfortable touching this person. I can't get that comfort level for the physical contact that I need in order to enjoy this scene as much as I should and oh god, can they also feel how uncomfortable I am? Are they uncomfortable too? Fuck. I don't like this. I kinda just want to stop it but I don't want to make them feel bad because I wasn't into it or that I was just service Topping them. So maybe I should just grit my teeth and bear it and finish out the scene and never ever do this again with this person until I'm a lot more comfortable with being physical with them." And when the first-time scene sucks, I'm not really likely to try again in order to actually GET a comfort level.
I can't just do pick-up play. It's just not me. I need to connect with the person in order to really enjoy the kink. I need a comfort level and it's often not just a switch that I can flip with someone.
Granted, there are a few people that I can flip the switch with and go from just being normal friendly to physical and close. @Sybele is one of them. There's a few others as well, though she's the one that it's easiest with so it's probably the best example. But otherwise? I can't just switch over. It's just not my thing.
And it's probably why I really don't play very often at this point. Though sometimes, if I get a few hours of getting to know someone before playing, I can play. But a long, established friendship with someone where I've already established a dynamic? I can't adjust.
That was horribly disjointed and poorly written. Let's call this one a rough draft on this topic and leave it at that.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Cyber Bullshit - RTOTD #753.1
Day 753.1
Since everyone ELSE is selling their shit for gigantic discounts for the holiday season, I decided to jump on the bandwagon.
Beginning as soon as Amazon, iBooks, and the Nook store actually update the price, the first book is on sale at a 40% discount. Discounted from $4.99 to $2.99.
Lulu's ePub version (which works on any eReader not made by Amazon or eReader app not named Kindle. This IS the iBooks and Nook version. Just bought from a different retailer.) is already down to $2.99
But here are the links for it.
Kindle Edition
iBooks Edition
Lulu ePub Edition
Nook Edition
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Since everyone ELSE is selling their shit for gigantic discounts for the holiday season, I decided to jump on the bandwagon.
Beginning as soon as Amazon, iBooks, and the Nook store actually update the price, the first book is on sale at a 40% discount. Discounted from $4.99 to $2.99.
Lulu's ePub version (which works on any eReader not made by Amazon or eReader app not named Kindle. This IS the iBooks and Nook version. Just bought from a different retailer.) is already down to $2.99
But here are the links for it.
Kindle Edition
iBooks Edition
Lulu ePub Edition
Nook Edition
.png)
Or just go cyber-fuck yourself. And fight over another flat screen at WalMart.
That Update Sucks - RTOTD #753
Day 753
I really hate the K&P format update. I preferred the tiles style that was there before. Especially on my phone. I don't want to scroll through hundreds of things to find something that doesn't suck. It updates slower, I can't zoom out and see a dozen or so different K&P things at once, and I literally have to scroll past every single one of those things that I don't care about before I get to something that I might. This was just a bad fucking update. And a bad idea. Not quite as bad of an idea as this, but still...
I want the old format back. I want to be able to see most of a page worth of stuff at once. I want to be able to scroll past a dozen or 2 different things with one swipe. I want to idly scroll through it with no real care as to what is there and even see the same things a couple times on the way down.
So gimme the option, Fet! I want to be able to pick my format. Old vs New.
It's why I hate a lot of the mobile versions of websites and always have. I want to just see the same fucking screen that I do on my laptop when I am browsing the same site on my phone. Mobile versions of websites suck. They were useful when everyone had 1 inch screen 128 color flip-phones. When everyone has a 3.5-6" 16 million color screen on their phone, or a 7-10 inch screen on their tablet, we just want to see the regular fucking screen. Unless you're blind.
When I can't set my device to automatically view a site in desktop format, I stop using them. It's why I don't check any of the Gawker sites like Gizmodo or io9 on my phone. I can't fucking stand their "we'll guess which news you really wanna see and blow it up to fill your whole screen" view instead of the "just show me which shit got posted in order of when it was posted and I'll decide what's fucking interesting" view that they used to use. Fuck that. One is a news format. The other is a fucking scavenger hunt. And I have no desire to look for new content in scavenger hunt format. So I just don't use them.
Don't make me stop using K&P by forcing me into a fucking mobile version and don't even fucking THINK about adding this same god damned format to the Friend Feed screen that you've added to K&P and Mail. It works for mail. It might even work for group forums with posts. It does NOT work for K&P or the friend feed.
I think I'm done with that rant.
Here's some random content to make you want to visit the blog site and not just read the post here. Cause there's not really much I can add here.
I really hate the K&P format update. I preferred the tiles style that was there before. Especially on my phone. I don't want to scroll through hundreds of things to find something that doesn't suck. It updates slower, I can't zoom out and see a dozen or so different K&P things at once, and I literally have to scroll past every single one of those things that I don't care about before I get to something that I might. This was just a bad fucking update. And a bad idea. Not quite as bad of an idea as this, but still... I want the old format back. I want to be able to see most of a page worth of stuff at once. I want to be able to scroll past a dozen or 2 different things with one swipe. I want to idly scroll through it with no real care as to what is there and even see the same things a couple times on the way down.
So gimme the option, Fet! I want to be able to pick my format. Old vs New.
It's why I hate a lot of the mobile versions of websites and always have. I want to just see the same fucking screen that I do on my laptop when I am browsing the same site on my phone. Mobile versions of websites suck. They were useful when everyone had 1 inch screen 128 color flip-phones. When everyone has a 3.5-6" 16 million color screen on their phone, or a 7-10 inch screen on their tablet, we just want to see the regular fucking screen. Unless you're blind. When I can't set my device to automatically view a site in desktop format, I stop using them. It's why I don't check any of the Gawker sites like Gizmodo or io9 on my phone. I can't fucking stand their "we'll guess which news you really wanna see and blow it up to fill your whole screen" view instead of the "just show me which shit got posted in order of when it was posted and I'll decide what's fucking interesting" view that they used to use. Fuck that. One is a news format. The other is a fucking scavenger hunt. And I have no desire to look for new content in scavenger hunt format. So I just don't use them.
Don't make me stop using K&P by forcing me into a fucking mobile version and don't even fucking THINK about adding this same god damned format to the Friend Feed screen that you've added to K&P and Mail. It works for mail. It might even work for group forums with posts. It does NOT work for K&P or the friend feed.
I think I'm done with that rant.
Here's some random content to make you want to visit the blog site and not just read the post here. Cause there's not really much I can add here.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Fuck Nature - RTOTD #752
Day 752
How much do you think it would cost to pave my entire lawn, paint it green, and then remove all the trees and replace them with artificial?
Cause I took a vacation week and I've pretty much been spending the entire fucking thing doing yard work so far. And while the trees are great and all, well... Fuck the leaves. This is bullshit. And I gotta do this shit every single fucking year? What the fuck is this shit?
Can't I just burn them down each year and start over every year?
How much do you think it would cost to pave my entire lawn, paint it green, and then remove all the trees and replace them with artificial?
Cause I took a vacation week and I've pretty much been spending the entire fucking thing doing yard work so far. And while the trees are great and all, well... Fuck the leaves. This is bullshit. And I gotta do this shit every single fucking year? What the fuck is this shit?
Can't I just burn them down each year and start over every year?
Friday, November 16, 2012
RTOTD #751.1
Day 751.1
Dear Readers,
So I've made a decision about the future of this blog/column/whatever.
Beginning next week, every day will be getting it's own title. However, the numbering will not end. The new title format will be as follows:
"Title" - RTOTD #XXX
So... there you go. I'm already kinda doing that with the twitter and facebook linking. This may help you (and me) when searching for some discussion that was going on a week or a few days, or a few months or even years ago, at least going forward.
And if I'm REALLY feeling masochistic, I'll go back and re-title all the old blogs as well. It might help me figure out when I wrote this thing or that thing that I might want to refer to going forward.
I never really titled them in the beginning because it was just not really about anything. It's still not really about anything, but they've gotten longer and longer. Now, it's a few hundred or thousand words. I also never expected to want or need to go find something, nor did I ever expect to write this for 750-odd days. I never foresaw teetering precariously close to 1000 writings, just on FetLife. And I never expected to acutally care if anyone kept talking about something I would say for days and days or even weeks after I wrote them. It was "write it and forget it". Like a tomahawk missle.
But things change. And with those changes where people might want to keep talking about something for days or weeks or months, or I might want to reference something, or maybe I just want to give non-regular readers a damn clue what they're about to read, I think it's time the naming scheme changes to fit these changes.
So starting Monday, we'll see a new naming scheme. Thanks for the feedback. I've been contemplating it for a while, but yeah... I think this is the way to go.
I hate you all,
Joe
Dear Readers,
So I've made a decision about the future of this blog/column/whatever.
Beginning next week, every day will be getting it's own title. However, the numbering will not end. The new title format will be as follows:
"Title" - RTOTD #XXX
So... there you go. I'm already kinda doing that with the twitter and facebook linking. This may help you (and me) when searching for some discussion that was going on a week or a few days, or a few months or even years ago, at least going forward.
And if I'm REALLY feeling masochistic, I'll go back and re-title all the old blogs as well. It might help me figure out when I wrote this thing or that thing that I might want to refer to going forward.
I never really titled them in the beginning because it was just not really about anything. It's still not really about anything, but they've gotten longer and longer. Now, it's a few hundred or thousand words. I also never expected to want or need to go find something, nor did I ever expect to write this for 750-odd days. I never foresaw teetering precariously close to 1000 writings, just on FetLife. And I never expected to acutally care if anyone kept talking about something I would say for days and days or even weeks after I wrote them. It was "write it and forget it". Like a tomahawk missle.
But things change. And with those changes where people might want to keep talking about something for days or weeks or months, or I might want to reference something, or maybe I just want to give non-regular readers a damn clue what they're about to read, I think it's time the naming scheme changes to fit these changes.
So starting Monday, we'll see a new naming scheme. Thanks for the feedback. I've been contemplating it for a while, but yeah... I think this is the way to go.
I hate you all,
Joe
Random Thought Of The Day #751
Day 751
So I've been thinking about this and wanted to get some reaction.
Is it just me, or does this daily column never really have a shelf-life? It seems like, with 1 or 2 notable exceptions, out of just shy of 1000 total writings, once midnight rolls around, that's kind of the end of any "loves" or comments or anything.
I guess it's like me in bed. No staying power anymore. Hey, it comes with age and getting fat. Shut up.
Is it just because there is so MUCH to wade through that things never really pop back up? Or is it just mediocre writing? Or is it the title? Does giving every single one the same title with just a different number kinda kill its marketability? Or maybe because it's often topical?
I'm not entirely sure.
I've just been thinking a lot more about this recently. I often see something that was on K&P a while ago pop back up there out of the blue. Like it gets found and remembered and more people comment on it and it hangs around again. Conversely, once I write something... by the next day, it's forgotten and in the ash heap of history. It sits in an archive and nobody really ever brings it up again.
I'm not complaining. I'm just curious... I think maybe because nobody wants to wade through almost 1000 writings just to find that one that they wanted to talk about again that I wrote many months or weeks or even days ago. It takes forever to wade through that crap. Maybe I should just start moving my "Best-Of" writing over to the @ScienceJesus profile so people can comment on them there and not have to dig through hundreds of posts to find the one they wanted.
But I'm curious. What is it that makes everyone move on from whatever yesterday's topic was and over to something else today? Internet ADD? Lack of substance to the discussion? Lack of substance to the writing itself? Futility of finding that ONE post you wanted to go back to?
I figure, since you're the readers and commenters, you're the ones to ask. So I really kinda wanna know. And yes, I want to know even if the answer is "you suck".
So I've been thinking about this and wanted to get some reaction.
Is it just me, or does this daily column never really have a shelf-life? It seems like, with 1 or 2 notable exceptions, out of just shy of 1000 total writings, once midnight rolls around, that's kind of the end of any "loves" or comments or anything.
I guess it's like me in bed. No staying power anymore. Hey, it comes with age and getting fat. Shut up.
Is it just because there is so MUCH to wade through that things never really pop back up? Or is it just mediocre writing? Or is it the title? Does giving every single one the same title with just a different number kinda kill its marketability? Or maybe because it's often topical?
I'm not entirely sure.
I've just been thinking a lot more about this recently. I often see something that was on K&P a while ago pop back up there out of the blue. Like it gets found and remembered and more people comment on it and it hangs around again. Conversely, once I write something... by the next day, it's forgotten and in the ash heap of history. It sits in an archive and nobody really ever brings it up again.
I'm not complaining. I'm just curious... I think maybe because nobody wants to wade through almost 1000 writings just to find that one that they wanted to talk about again that I wrote many months or weeks or even days ago. It takes forever to wade through that crap. Maybe I should just start moving my "Best-Of" writing over to the @ScienceJesus profile so people can comment on them there and not have to dig through hundreds of posts to find the one they wanted.
But I'm curious. What is it that makes everyone move on from whatever yesterday's topic was and over to something else today? Internet ADD? Lack of substance to the discussion? Lack of substance to the writing itself? Futility of finding that ONE post you wanted to go back to?
I figure, since you're the readers and commenters, you're the ones to ask. So I really kinda wanna know. And yes, I want to know even if the answer is "you suck".
Thursday, November 15, 2012
RTOTD #750.1
Day 750.1
Due to unforeseen circumstances, all future postings of mine will contain a disclaimer prior to the actual commenting or posting. The disclaimer shall read:
"Disclaimer: Do not have any fluids in your mouth before reading the following comment/posting. There is a reasonably foreseeable chance that said liquids will be involuntarily ejected from your body, via your nose and/or mouth, due to laughter. The poster of said comments/postings shall not be held responsible for damage done to the electronic communications device being used to read said comments/postings due to this involuntary reaction."
I wonder if anyone has ever been sued for making someone shoot milk out of their nose all over their computer? If so, can I see the court documents? Cause that's gotta be the funniest shit ever.
Due to unforeseen circumstances, all future postings of mine will contain a disclaimer prior to the actual commenting or posting. The disclaimer shall read:"Disclaimer: Do not have any fluids in your mouth before reading the following comment/posting. There is a reasonably foreseeable chance that said liquids will be involuntarily ejected from your body, via your nose and/or mouth, due to laughter. The poster of said comments/postings shall not be held responsible for damage done to the electronic communications device being used to read said comments/postings due to this involuntary reaction."
I wonder if anyone has ever been sued for making someone shoot milk out of their nose all over their computer? If so, can I see the court documents? Cause that's gotta be the funniest shit ever.
Random Thought Of The Day #750 - Three Quarter Millennial Edition
Day 750
I've been feeling a little disconnected with the kink world recently. I'm not entirely sure why. I don't really have any desired to be any more involved with things than I am. I really can't see myself going out to a munch that isn't an UnMunch anytime soon. So I'm not really sure what it is. Maybe restlessness? Like just boredom and stagnation? I'm not sure.
This revelation hit me yesterday afternoon. It was kinda out of the blue, but it still struck me and I've been having issues just ignoring it. There's SOMETHING there that I want that I can't quite put my finger on. I don't know if it's something that is pre-existing, or if it would be something that I'd need to do work to create. I'm really not sure. I have a feeling that it's the later, but it could be the former.
But then again, that's the problem with not knowing exactly what it is you're missing at that moment. You known neither what it is or who has it.
So... instead of me sitting here and getting far too deep into my head for absolutely no reason and with no amusing results to anyone... let's play a different little game.
If you could change 1 thing (specific) about the kink world, either on a local or national or international scale, what would it be? And if there's something that you thought is missing NOW that was not missing months, or years, or decades ago, when you first got involved, what is it?
I'll go first in the reply section:
I've been feeling a little disconnected with the kink world recently. I'm not entirely sure why. I don't really have any desired to be any more involved with things than I am. I really can't see myself going out to a munch that isn't an UnMunch anytime soon. So I'm not really sure what it is. Maybe restlessness? Like just boredom and stagnation? I'm not sure.
This revelation hit me yesterday afternoon. It was kinda out of the blue, but it still struck me and I've been having issues just ignoring it. There's SOMETHING there that I want that I can't quite put my finger on. I don't know if it's something that is pre-existing, or if it would be something that I'd need to do work to create. I'm really not sure. I have a feeling that it's the later, but it could be the former.
But then again, that's the problem with not knowing exactly what it is you're missing at that moment. You known neither what it is or who has it.
So... instead of me sitting here and getting far too deep into my head for absolutely no reason and with no amusing results to anyone... let's play a different little game.
If you could change 1 thing (specific) about the kink world, either on a local or national or international scale, what would it be? And if there's something that you thought is missing NOW that was not missing months, or years, or decades ago, when you first got involved, what is it?
I'll go first in the reply section:
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
RTOTD #749.2
Day 749.2
For the record, I'm already LOVING Halo 4. @TheOtherJoe and I played for like 4 hours the other night. It's fucking awesome. I think that's what I'm going to be spending a portion of tonight doing before UnMunching.
For the record, I'm already LOVING Halo 4. @TheOtherJoe and I played for like 4 hours the other night. It's fucking awesome. I think that's what I'm going to be spending a portion of tonight doing before UnMunching.
RTOTD #749.1
Day 749.1
I have a great book idea. In the vein of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies....
50 Shades of Grey Matter. Kinky zombie erotica!
I have a great book idea. In the vein of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies....
50 Shades of Grey Matter. Kinky zombie erotica!
Random Thought Of The Day #749
Day 749
Just as a courtesy, I figured it was time to clarify something.
This is the part of the day when you acknowledge that I'm better and more interesting than you. Or really anyone else. Again. For like the 1000th day in a row.
This was my public service for the day. Because I'm all about being a public service. Obviously.
Just as a courtesy, I figured it was time to clarify something.
This is the part of the day when you acknowledge that I'm better and more interesting than you. Or really anyone else. Again. For like the 1000th day in a row.
This was my public service for the day. Because I'm all about being a public service. Obviously.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
RTOTD #748.1
Day 748.1
So I'm going to do something that other people do sometimes...
It's Ask Me Anything Day.
So ask me anything.
So I'm going to do something that other people do sometimes...
It's Ask Me Anything Day.
So ask me anything.
Random Thought Of The Day #748
Day 748
Third Time Isn't A Charm
(When? - October 2009)
Most of my friends have known better than to invite me to their weddings. Maybe it's because they know I'm going to cause a spectacle. Maybe it's because they know I'll get boldly drunk and wildly out of control before trying to sleep with any reasonably attractive girl there, including the bride's mother if she's got that cougar thing going. They might know that I'm that guy that would yell at the DJ for playing the Chicken Dance, even if all the old people are loving it. Because the Chicken Dance sucks.
Or maybe because I'm just not a good enough friend that they're willing to tolerate my narcissistic attention whoring and just don't invite me.
I'm leaning towards this option.
However, a few of my friends have made the mistake of inviting me to weddings. My brother, of course, invited me to his. And as was expected, made me the Best Man. I mean... I might be a gigantic pain in the ass and a completely self-indulgent jackass, but I'm still his brother. Who the fuck ELSE would he pick? Though his wife DID demand that I write my Best Man speech ahead of time and give her a copy that she could proof read and have veto power over. I, of course, wrote one and turned it over. Then promptly ignored what I wrote and made something up on the spot because... fuck you, that's why.
My brother and I couldn't be more dissimilar. Wait, that's not entirely true. There was a time where we were very much alike. Then he got boring and I got awesomer and now we couldn't be more dissimilar. Where he might use fancy words like "moderation" and "mature" and "sober", I ignore those words and just do whatever I want while ignoring the consequences of my actions and denying any responsibility if things go badly. Nothing is ever my fault. Because I'm better than you.
Well, I had a feeling that my brother's wedding was going to be a total shit show from the first time he told me about it. It wasn't going to be here. It was going to be in middle-of-fucking-nowhere, Central PA because that's where my sister-in-law's family is from. And because they had more family than we do, apparently we had to do the wedding out there. This meant a few things. It meant that not many of our mutual friends would not bother making the 3 hour trek to Nowheresville, Pennsyltuckey. It also meant that there would be a minimal number of hot girls there. Because it was nowheresville, pennsyltuckey. I wasn't really super concerned about this second thing when I agreed to both GO and be the Best Man, because TheDevil was going to be coming as my Plus One.
Leading up to the wedding, I had exactly 1 thing on my mind. Bachelor Party. But my brother, being entirely dissimilar to me, said the 2 words that every Best Man dreads hearing. "No Strippers". What. The. Fuck. How does that even work? This was going to be the 3rd wedding that I'd been to in the past few years where the rule was "no strippers" for the bachelor party. And not even for the usual bullshit reason of "the Bride's dad/uncles/brothers/cousins were coming to the bachelor party". See, that one is easy to get around. You just do 2 Bachelor parties. One that is safe for them to come to, and you either do a different one on a different night that includes strippers that you don't tell them about, or you just say the bachelor party goes from 7-10 and then you move onto the bars and strip clubs from there.
No, in all 3 cases it was because the GROOM DIDN'T WANT STRIPPERS! How is this even fucking possible? Did that recently suffer a severe head trauma? Because what the fuck kind of bachelor party is it without strippers? Fuck, I almost feel like I have been spending the intervening years of strip club patronage just making up for the lack-there-of strippers at these 3 bachelor parties. This is bullshit and it's entirely unacceptable. Because fuck you, I don't care if you're the groom. It's a night to go absolutely batshit fucking crazy, do the stupidest shit imaginable, have glitter-trailed whores plaster themselves to your lap, and generally act like a drunken fool all night. And not only is it acceptable, it's encouraged by everyone except for the most pious and prudish of evangelical assholes. And even those fucking people are just hypocritical assholes who just wish they had the balls to do the kind of shit that they preach against doing. Pussies.
Now how in the fuck am I supposed to organize a Bachelor Party that doesn't involve strippers? I had some ideas, but then he decided to throw yet another hurdle at me.
Not only were we not allowed to have strippers involved, but every time I suggested a time and location to do it in Pittsburgh, he had some bullshit excuse. I was running short on time to fit this fucking thing in, and he decided that we should wait and do it the weekend of the wedding. After the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding. I think you know what that means. It's in bumfuck nowhere PA, with only a handful of our friends, and no strippers. This is going to fucking suck.
There were a grand total of 6 people that I knew that were going that were not members of my family or hers. The other 3 groomsmen (Batman, BoyWonder, and some dude that I only kinda knew), of which only 2 of whom I could even tolerate by this point, a couple that I had had a falling out with about 6 months prior, and a female friend that I still hang out with occasionally today. Fucking great. Because it wasn't going to suck enough as-is, a bachelor party with 5 people plus the groom in the middle of nowhere was totally the way to redeem this dump truck fire of suck. Sure. It also means that getting a drunk bus was out of the question. And that people would actually have to drive to and from the bar. Which also means that it's MY JOB to make sure someone is sober enough to drive, and knows how to get back to the hotel. But because nobody actually had a van or SUV, it meant that 2 people would have to drive in order to even fit everyone in the cars. Fucking better.
But I am awesome and I will find a way to make this awesome. Because I'm better than everyone.
In addition to the piles of fucking great news I was getting about the state of Bachelor Party options that I was getting in the weeks leading up to the wedding, I was also getting some even better news at home. TheDevil was starting to hint about backing out of attending. And sure enough, the morning that we were set to leave, I got the not-entirely-unexpected news that she didn't feel up to going. She made up a handful of excuses about needing decompression time before doing something the following week, and about not knowing my friends or family and feeling uncomfortable, and any number of other poorly-reasoned justifications that amounted to typical whore-logic. I was already starting to get sick of her shit as it was, and this just served to increase my volatility towards her.
With that news, the wedding weekend potential was quickly sinking from salvageable to "where's the life-boats, cause this boat is taking on fucking water".
Let's do a quick count on the usual bachelor party things that we have and don't have:
A good group of friends? Nope. 90% of them weren't even coming.
Strippers? Nope. Because the groom apparently hates pussy.
The ability to stumble from bar-to-bar shithoused? Nope. Because we're in the fucking sticks.
A drunk bus to get us to and from the bars? Nope. Because it's the fucking sticks and those things don't exist there. Fuck. Maybe I can find a hillbilly to ride us around in the back of his pick-em-up truck?
Hot single girls that that get horny from weddings? Nope. Because it's in October and most 20-something girls are away at college, and those that are done with school and still live in rural PA are either ugly or married. Because no hot 20-something girl still lives in bumfuck nowhere after college voluntarily. They move to cities. We were at least an hour and a half outside of anything you could reasonably call a city.
Slutty brides-maids? Negative, Ghost-Rider. Because it was literally ALL 3 of the Bride's younger sisters. The only one that was legal was paired with me, and she had a kinda douchey boyfriend that was coming to the wedding with her.
A date that I could at least knew I was ending up in bed with that night? Nope. She bailed at literally the last minute.
This wedding was running out of ways to reach even greater levels of suck. And I hadn't even left the house for the 3 1/2 hour drive to it yet. The only thing I even had to look forward to was giving my Best Man speech. And the soon-to-be-sister-in-law wanted veto power over that too.
When I finally arrived, the only thing I wanted to do was get through it without being entirely miserable. And the only way to do that was going to be to drink heavily.
I got checked in and even though I had my dog with me, I knew that it was going to be less-than fun.
I was already running about 10 minutes late when I finally left for the rehearsal dinner. But fuck it, I'm the Best Man, they can't start without me. So they can live with it. And it was only about 10 minutes away. Using the GPS on my phone to guide my way, I was about half way there when I hit some traffic. And some construction. 1/4 mile from the only confusing part of the directions, my phone rang. I missed the turn as a result. There were 2 off-ramps within 200 yards of one another and I took the wrong one. Fuck. Well, this should be simple enough, right? All I need to to is get to the bottom, cross straight across the road onto the on-ramp, and get back off at the next off-ramp.
No such fucking luck. The on-ramp was closed. Shit. Well, I can just go back the other direction on the highway, get off at the previous exit, double back again and hit the right off-ramp this time, right? Yeah, not so much. In fact, when I hit the end of the off-ramp, I found out that I could only go one way, and it wasn't taking me anywhere close the highway. Seriously, who the fuck designs these detours? And why is it my luck that I have to hit the one that is so poorly designed?
Being forced to go in one direction, you'd think that there would be signs to indicate how you get back to the highway, right? Yeah, also too simple. There were absolutely zero detour signs. "Oh, you want to go to the highway? Fuck you". Thanks, PennDOT. Fuck you very much too.
And of course, any attempts to use the GPS to adjust my course were routinely interrupted by family members calling me, repeatedly, to find out where I was.
Me: "I would probably not be getting lost so much if you'd stop fucking calling, because I can't talk on my phone and use it's GPS at the same time"
Mom: "Oh"
5 minutes later
Mom: "where are you?"
Me: "What part of stop calling me didn't you understand? What part of my phone is my GPS is too complicated? And what part of every time you call, I get lost again was too fucking difficult. So stop calling me or I'll just wander around lost for another hour on purpose and fuck you, you can wait"
6 minutes later
*ring*
Me: "STOP FUCKING CALLING!" *click*
I was pissed by the time I finally got there. I was 45 minutes late. I had a look on my face that just said "the first person to cross me is getting hit with a chair WWF style". Normally I can take a joke, even when I'm pissed. When unfortunate things happen to me, my friends are great at giving me shit about it. I can laugh at myself. I can take a joke at my expense. Hell, I expect it. But not today. I was in no mood for any one's shit. TheDevil backing out on me at the last minute was my last straw. The 3 1/2 hour drive didn't help. And the traffic, construction, detours, getting lost, and constant phone calls that made me even more lost pushed me over the edge.
I got a look from both of my parents when I walked that said "we're displeased by your tardiness and the way you talked to us when we called you'. They were trying to "not make a scene". I didn't care about a scene and just said "fuck you both" as I walked past. There was an audible gasp from other people at the rehearsal dinner. I wasn't even in the mood to play it off as "I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am" and turn it into an excuse to put the spotlight back on me, like I usually would do. I was that angry.
I sat down at my table and was silent. Nobody even looked at me directly. They all glanced quickly out of the corners of their eyes. Apparently I had the "I'm going to stab you if you even look at me" expression on my face. They apparently didn't enjoy being stabbed. So it worked out.
About 10 minutes into dinner, Batman made the first mistake. I was already irritated, and hungry, and not only was there not even bread out, but the waiter hadn't even bothered to come over and ask me if I'd like a drink. I wanted 5. Immediately. To start. It might have been enough to take the edge off, but I couldn't be certain. I felt like 5 was low-balling the estimate on the quantity of alcohol I'd need to not be fuming anymore. But it was a safe enough bet. Plus, I didn't think he'd be able to carry more than 5 at once.
Everybody sensed how pissed off I was at the whole situation, but Batman is a fucking idiot. He has absolutely zero sense of tact. And has horrible situational awareness. Everyone else knew better than to talk to me. He apparently did not.
The waiter brought me my drinks. I pounded them down in under 2 minutes. I was still not happy.
Batman: "Joe, you shouldn't get so upset about things. You need to learn to control your temper better. It's why you're so unsuccessful."
Me: *GLARE*
Batman: "I mean... with school and with..."
Me: {not even allowing him to finish his sentence and quite loudly} "If you say another fucking word to me, I'll beat you to death with this chair and before setting your corpse on fire and using your mouth for an ashtray while ignoring the smoking ban and drinking myself into a coma. So keep fucking talking, asshole. We'll see how well it works out for you"
Another audible gasp from the rest of the rehearsal dinner. You sell cabinets for your Dad and still live at home at 28. Don't give me shit, junior.
{writer's note: Batman and I didn't speak after this incident for 2 years. And only then, because he offered a great deal on my kitchen cabinets by proxy through my brother, after he found out I was going to re-do my kitchen last year. And we haven't spoken again since I wrote him the last check for the cabinets}
I stood up and walked out. I didn't say another word. I simply got in my car and drove back to my hotel. I immediately went to the hotel bar.
About 2 hours later, my brother and one of the few people I actually liked that was attending the wedding came in. We drank there. They wanted to do the bachelor party still. I was in no mood, but was willing to suffer through it if we could find something actually fun to do. The only options were townie biker and hillbilly bars, or a TGI Fridays near some strip mall. Apparently Batman and BoyWonder were only going to go if they went to the Townie dive bars. I was only willing to go to a place that the majority of patrons did not sleep with their sisters with any sort of regularity. They apparently didn't have standards because Batman is the cheapest fuck I've ever met, and BoyWonder is his sidekick and bitch with no ability to say no. It's like Steve-Dave and Walt Flannigan. But by this point, they were even more pathetic. There was a reason that I stopped hanging out with them a few years prior. They sucked now.
I made it perfectly clear that I was not going anywhere with Batman. If he was going, I was not. Because if I got drunker, I was going to throw him from a moving vehicle while gleefully singing the theme from Mary Poppins. I knew I'd need some proof of insanity for the ensuing trial. I wanted to avoid that.
Eventually, they settled on going to the townie dive bars because Batman is a fuck. I drank myself into a stumbling state at the hotel bar until getting thrown out for smoking after being refused an ashtray, ignoring the numerous no-smoking signs around the bar, and multiple warnings from the bartender and hotel manager. Fuck them. When I'm in that foul of a mood, even my normally uncanny ability to manipulate a situation and people into getting what I want doesn't work. I was going to be absolutely zero fun without slutty girls taking their clothes off or being black-out drunk. I honestly don't blame them. I was in a full-on Joe Smash alcohol-amplified rage. I didn't even want to drink with me that night. And there's nobody that loves me more than me.
The next day was the wedding. I arrived at the church and didn't catch fire. I have disproved god. Or I am a god of equal power. I think it may be the second case. But I'm fine with either options.
Batman was smart enough to not even look at me during the actual ceremony. The actual ceremony was typical and boring. I handed some rings over to my brother at one point, and kinda zoned out for the rest of the time. I had to be poked when it was time for me to fulfill the few duties that a Best Man actually has during a wedding. I was more interested in the open bar at the reception.
I got to the reception and was quickly disappointed. They had 1 white and 1 red wine, well liquor, and Clydesdale urine as their beer option. I was not pleased. I dove into the shitty vodka instead.
After an hour, I had moved from singles to doubles to triples for my drinks. The reason was simple. I was hating everyone there even more with every passing second. I expected the talent pool to be minimum at the ceremony, but I wasn't trying to fuck anyone in the church. I kinda was going to be busy with the whole 'standing on the stage thing"... thing. However, I hoped it would pick up at the reception. Even fractionally. It did not. In fact, if anything, it got worse. There were exactly 2 attractive girls there that were not my friends, and both of them had boyfriends or husbands with them. I wasn't even talking about hot women, I just meant attractive. Hell, there weren't even any that I didn't expect to see pulling a plow later that day.
Because you know, this couldn't get worse.
Finally, it reached the only part of the entire weekend that I was even marginally looking forward to. The part where everyone is watching me again. The speeches.
As I mentioned above, the bride had asked me to actually write a speech and then submit it to her ahead of time. I did. I also subsequently ignored everything I wrote and just said "fuck it, I'll make it up when I get up there". Like I pretty much always do.
The Maid Of Honor did her speech and got a few jokes about procrastinating because she had only written it the night before. Then it was my turn.
Me: "Well, she did ok for only writing it last night. But she still beat me. I didn't even write one. Well, that's not true. I wrote one because Wifey asked me to. She wanted veto power. Because she apparently knows me well enough to know that she should review things before I say them publicly. she apparently does not know me well enough to know that I would humor her and then still make something up when I got up here. I win."
I proceeded to give a meandering speech that involved spiders taking over the world if they had wings, how much human beings suck, moonshine, and internet gambling. You know... in that patented Joe style that somehow connects all of those things and you're not quite sure how, or if you're smarter or stupider for having read it when you're done. It was like a spoken-word Random Thought.
Somehow, when I was done, I got a standing ovation. I don't even know exactly what I said, but apparently it was quite moving. I don't even know how. I kept myself as the main topic of the whole thing, kind of ignored that there was a wedding going on, and rambled on about nothingness for 10 minutes. Yet apparently it was metaphor for love or something. Or at least that's what some old woman told me. I just smiled and nodded. Yeah, sure. Go ahead and think that. I'd go back and watch the video of it to figure out how the fuck they got that out of what I said, but I don't really care enough.
There's really nothing else funny that happened. I got blindly intoxicated, barely spoke to anyone, and was just generally a gigantic ass to everyone. By the time I left, the only people I was still speaking to were my brother and his wife, my one female friend that I'm still close with, and the other groomsman that I barely know. Hell, I ended up just hanging out with them through most of the reception.
I slept it off at the hotel later and ended up still leaving that night to drive back home. The ceremony was early. Around noon. The reception started at 2 and ended at around 7:00, so by the time I got back to the room, napped to sober up enough to drive, and headed home with my dog, it was around midnight. I walked in the door at around 4am and just went back to bed.
I blame it all on the lack of strippers. With strippers, or with a drunk bus, this could have been salvageable. But instead, it was a total shit show and would have required effort to make it suck more than it did. It was just filled to the gills with suck instead. And was entirely irredeemable.
Third Time Isn't A Charm
(When? - October 2009)
Most of my friends have known better than to invite me to their weddings. Maybe it's because they know I'm going to cause a spectacle. Maybe it's because they know I'll get boldly drunk and wildly out of control before trying to sleep with any reasonably attractive girl there, including the bride's mother if she's got that cougar thing going. They might know that I'm that guy that would yell at the DJ for playing the Chicken Dance, even if all the old people are loving it. Because the Chicken Dance sucks.
Or maybe because I'm just not a good enough friend that they're willing to tolerate my narcissistic attention whoring and just don't invite me.
I'm leaning towards this option.
However, a few of my friends have made the mistake of inviting me to weddings. My brother, of course, invited me to his. And as was expected, made me the Best Man. I mean... I might be a gigantic pain in the ass and a completely self-indulgent jackass, but I'm still his brother. Who the fuck ELSE would he pick? Though his wife DID demand that I write my Best Man speech ahead of time and give her a copy that she could proof read and have veto power over. I, of course, wrote one and turned it over. Then promptly ignored what I wrote and made something up on the spot because... fuck you, that's why.
My brother and I couldn't be more dissimilar. Wait, that's not entirely true. There was a time where we were very much alike. Then he got boring and I got awesomer and now we couldn't be more dissimilar. Where he might use fancy words like "moderation" and "mature" and "sober", I ignore those words and just do whatever I want while ignoring the consequences of my actions and denying any responsibility if things go badly. Nothing is ever my fault. Because I'm better than you.
Well, I had a feeling that my brother's wedding was going to be a total shit show from the first time he told me about it. It wasn't going to be here. It was going to be in middle-of-fucking-nowhere, Central PA because that's where my sister-in-law's family is from. And because they had more family than we do, apparently we had to do the wedding out there. This meant a few things. It meant that not many of our mutual friends would not bother making the 3 hour trek to Nowheresville, Pennsyltuckey. It also meant that there would be a minimal number of hot girls there. Because it was nowheresville, pennsyltuckey. I wasn't really super concerned about this second thing when I agreed to both GO and be the Best Man, because TheDevil was going to be coming as my Plus One.
Leading up to the wedding, I had exactly 1 thing on my mind. Bachelor Party. But my brother, being entirely dissimilar to me, said the 2 words that every Best Man dreads hearing. "No Strippers". What. The. Fuck. How does that even work? This was going to be the 3rd wedding that I'd been to in the past few years where the rule was "no strippers" for the bachelor party. And not even for the usual bullshit reason of "the Bride's dad/uncles/brothers/cousins were coming to the bachelor party". See, that one is easy to get around. You just do 2 Bachelor parties. One that is safe for them to come to, and you either do a different one on a different night that includes strippers that you don't tell them about, or you just say the bachelor party goes from 7-10 and then you move onto the bars and strip clubs from there.
No, in all 3 cases it was because the GROOM DIDN'T WANT STRIPPERS! How is this even fucking possible? Did that recently suffer a severe head trauma? Because what the fuck kind of bachelor party is it without strippers? Fuck, I almost feel like I have been spending the intervening years of strip club patronage just making up for the lack-there-of strippers at these 3 bachelor parties. This is bullshit and it's entirely unacceptable. Because fuck you, I don't care if you're the groom. It's a night to go absolutely batshit fucking crazy, do the stupidest shit imaginable, have glitter-trailed whores plaster themselves to your lap, and generally act like a drunken fool all night. And not only is it acceptable, it's encouraged by everyone except for the most pious and prudish of evangelical assholes. And even those fucking people are just hypocritical assholes who just wish they had the balls to do the kind of shit that they preach against doing. Pussies.
Now how in the fuck am I supposed to organize a Bachelor Party that doesn't involve strippers? I had some ideas, but then he decided to throw yet another hurdle at me.
Not only were we not allowed to have strippers involved, but every time I suggested a time and location to do it in Pittsburgh, he had some bullshit excuse. I was running short on time to fit this fucking thing in, and he decided that we should wait and do it the weekend of the wedding. After the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding. I think you know what that means. It's in bumfuck nowhere PA, with only a handful of our friends, and no strippers. This is going to fucking suck.
There were a grand total of 6 people that I knew that were going that were not members of my family or hers. The other 3 groomsmen (Batman, BoyWonder, and some dude that I only kinda knew), of which only 2 of whom I could even tolerate by this point, a couple that I had had a falling out with about 6 months prior, and a female friend that I still hang out with occasionally today. Fucking great. Because it wasn't going to suck enough as-is, a bachelor party with 5 people plus the groom in the middle of nowhere was totally the way to redeem this dump truck fire of suck. Sure. It also means that getting a drunk bus was out of the question. And that people would actually have to drive to and from the bar. Which also means that it's MY JOB to make sure someone is sober enough to drive, and knows how to get back to the hotel. But because nobody actually had a van or SUV, it meant that 2 people would have to drive in order to even fit everyone in the cars. Fucking better.
But I am awesome and I will find a way to make this awesome. Because I'm better than everyone.
In addition to the piles of fucking great news I was getting about the state of Bachelor Party options that I was getting in the weeks leading up to the wedding, I was also getting some even better news at home. TheDevil was starting to hint about backing out of attending. And sure enough, the morning that we were set to leave, I got the not-entirely-unexpected news that she didn't feel up to going. She made up a handful of excuses about needing decompression time before doing something the following week, and about not knowing my friends or family and feeling uncomfortable, and any number of other poorly-reasoned justifications that amounted to typical whore-logic. I was already starting to get sick of her shit as it was, and this just served to increase my volatility towards her.
With that news, the wedding weekend potential was quickly sinking from salvageable to "where's the life-boats, cause this boat is taking on fucking water".
Let's do a quick count on the usual bachelor party things that we have and don't have:
A good group of friends? Nope. 90% of them weren't even coming.
Strippers? Nope. Because the groom apparently hates pussy.
The ability to stumble from bar-to-bar shithoused? Nope. Because we're in the fucking sticks.
A drunk bus to get us to and from the bars? Nope. Because it's the fucking sticks and those things don't exist there. Fuck. Maybe I can find a hillbilly to ride us around in the back of his pick-em-up truck?
Hot single girls that that get horny from weddings? Nope. Because it's in October and most 20-something girls are away at college, and those that are done with school and still live in rural PA are either ugly or married. Because no hot 20-something girl still lives in bumfuck nowhere after college voluntarily. They move to cities. We were at least an hour and a half outside of anything you could reasonably call a city.
Slutty brides-maids? Negative, Ghost-Rider. Because it was literally ALL 3 of the Bride's younger sisters. The only one that was legal was paired with me, and she had a kinda douchey boyfriend that was coming to the wedding with her.
A date that I could at least knew I was ending up in bed with that night? Nope. She bailed at literally the last minute.
This wedding was running out of ways to reach even greater levels of suck. And I hadn't even left the house for the 3 1/2 hour drive to it yet. The only thing I even had to look forward to was giving my Best Man speech. And the soon-to-be-sister-in-law wanted veto power over that too.
When I finally arrived, the only thing I wanted to do was get through it without being entirely miserable. And the only way to do that was going to be to drink heavily.
I got checked in and even though I had my dog with me, I knew that it was going to be less-than fun.
I was already running about 10 minutes late when I finally left for the rehearsal dinner. But fuck it, I'm the Best Man, they can't start without me. So they can live with it. And it was only about 10 minutes away. Using the GPS on my phone to guide my way, I was about half way there when I hit some traffic. And some construction. 1/4 mile from the only confusing part of the directions, my phone rang. I missed the turn as a result. There were 2 off-ramps within 200 yards of one another and I took the wrong one. Fuck. Well, this should be simple enough, right? All I need to to is get to the bottom, cross straight across the road onto the on-ramp, and get back off at the next off-ramp.
No such fucking luck. The on-ramp was closed. Shit. Well, I can just go back the other direction on the highway, get off at the previous exit, double back again and hit the right off-ramp this time, right? Yeah, not so much. In fact, when I hit the end of the off-ramp, I found out that I could only go one way, and it wasn't taking me anywhere close the highway. Seriously, who the fuck designs these detours? And why is it my luck that I have to hit the one that is so poorly designed?
Being forced to go in one direction, you'd think that there would be signs to indicate how you get back to the highway, right? Yeah, also too simple. There were absolutely zero detour signs. "Oh, you want to go to the highway? Fuck you". Thanks, PennDOT. Fuck you very much too.
And of course, any attempts to use the GPS to adjust my course were routinely interrupted by family members calling me, repeatedly, to find out where I was.
Me: "I would probably not be getting lost so much if you'd stop fucking calling, because I can't talk on my phone and use it's GPS at the same time"
Mom: "Oh"
5 minutes later
Mom: "where are you?"
Me: "What part of stop calling me didn't you understand? What part of my phone is my GPS is too complicated? And what part of every time you call, I get lost again was too fucking difficult. So stop calling me or I'll just wander around lost for another hour on purpose and fuck you, you can wait"
6 minutes later
*ring*
Me: "STOP FUCKING CALLING!" *click*
I was pissed by the time I finally got there. I was 45 minutes late. I had a look on my face that just said "the first person to cross me is getting hit with a chair WWF style". Normally I can take a joke, even when I'm pissed. When unfortunate things happen to me, my friends are great at giving me shit about it. I can laugh at myself. I can take a joke at my expense. Hell, I expect it. But not today. I was in no mood for any one's shit. TheDevil backing out on me at the last minute was my last straw. The 3 1/2 hour drive didn't help. And the traffic, construction, detours, getting lost, and constant phone calls that made me even more lost pushed me over the edge.
I got a look from both of my parents when I walked that said "we're displeased by your tardiness and the way you talked to us when we called you'. They were trying to "not make a scene". I didn't care about a scene and just said "fuck you both" as I walked past. There was an audible gasp from other people at the rehearsal dinner. I wasn't even in the mood to play it off as "I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am" and turn it into an excuse to put the spotlight back on me, like I usually would do. I was that angry.
I sat down at my table and was silent. Nobody even looked at me directly. They all glanced quickly out of the corners of their eyes. Apparently I had the "I'm going to stab you if you even look at me" expression on my face. They apparently didn't enjoy being stabbed. So it worked out.
About 10 minutes into dinner, Batman made the first mistake. I was already irritated, and hungry, and not only was there not even bread out, but the waiter hadn't even bothered to come over and ask me if I'd like a drink. I wanted 5. Immediately. To start. It might have been enough to take the edge off, but I couldn't be certain. I felt like 5 was low-balling the estimate on the quantity of alcohol I'd need to not be fuming anymore. But it was a safe enough bet. Plus, I didn't think he'd be able to carry more than 5 at once.
Everybody sensed how pissed off I was at the whole situation, but Batman is a fucking idiot. He has absolutely zero sense of tact. And has horrible situational awareness. Everyone else knew better than to talk to me. He apparently did not.
The waiter brought me my drinks. I pounded them down in under 2 minutes. I was still not happy.
Batman: "Joe, you shouldn't get so upset about things. You need to learn to control your temper better. It's why you're so unsuccessful."
Me: *GLARE*
Batman: "I mean... with school and with..."
Me: {not even allowing him to finish his sentence and quite loudly} "If you say another fucking word to me, I'll beat you to death with this chair and before setting your corpse on fire and using your mouth for an ashtray while ignoring the smoking ban and drinking myself into a coma. So keep fucking talking, asshole. We'll see how well it works out for you"
Another audible gasp from the rest of the rehearsal dinner. You sell cabinets for your Dad and still live at home at 28. Don't give me shit, junior.
{writer's note: Batman and I didn't speak after this incident for 2 years. And only then, because he offered a great deal on my kitchen cabinets by proxy through my brother, after he found out I was going to re-do my kitchen last year. And we haven't spoken again since I wrote him the last check for the cabinets}
I stood up and walked out. I didn't say another word. I simply got in my car and drove back to my hotel. I immediately went to the hotel bar.
About 2 hours later, my brother and one of the few people I actually liked that was attending the wedding came in. We drank there. They wanted to do the bachelor party still. I was in no mood, but was willing to suffer through it if we could find something actually fun to do. The only options were townie biker and hillbilly bars, or a TGI Fridays near some strip mall. Apparently Batman and BoyWonder were only going to go if they went to the Townie dive bars. I was only willing to go to a place that the majority of patrons did not sleep with their sisters with any sort of regularity. They apparently didn't have standards because Batman is the cheapest fuck I've ever met, and BoyWonder is his sidekick and bitch with no ability to say no. It's like Steve-Dave and Walt Flannigan. But by this point, they were even more pathetic. There was a reason that I stopped hanging out with them a few years prior. They sucked now.
I made it perfectly clear that I was not going anywhere with Batman. If he was going, I was not. Because if I got drunker, I was going to throw him from a moving vehicle while gleefully singing the theme from Mary Poppins. I knew I'd need some proof of insanity for the ensuing trial. I wanted to avoid that.
Eventually, they settled on going to the townie dive bars because Batman is a fuck. I drank myself into a stumbling state at the hotel bar until getting thrown out for smoking after being refused an ashtray, ignoring the numerous no-smoking signs around the bar, and multiple warnings from the bartender and hotel manager. Fuck them. When I'm in that foul of a mood, even my normally uncanny ability to manipulate a situation and people into getting what I want doesn't work. I was going to be absolutely zero fun without slutty girls taking their clothes off or being black-out drunk. I honestly don't blame them. I was in a full-on Joe Smash alcohol-amplified rage. I didn't even want to drink with me that night. And there's nobody that loves me more than me.
The next day was the wedding. I arrived at the church and didn't catch fire. I have disproved god. Or I am a god of equal power. I think it may be the second case. But I'm fine with either options.
Batman was smart enough to not even look at me during the actual ceremony. The actual ceremony was typical and boring. I handed some rings over to my brother at one point, and kinda zoned out for the rest of the time. I had to be poked when it was time for me to fulfill the few duties that a Best Man actually has during a wedding. I was more interested in the open bar at the reception.
I got to the reception and was quickly disappointed. They had 1 white and 1 red wine, well liquor, and Clydesdale urine as their beer option. I was not pleased. I dove into the shitty vodka instead.
After an hour, I had moved from singles to doubles to triples for my drinks. The reason was simple. I was hating everyone there even more with every passing second. I expected the talent pool to be minimum at the ceremony, but I wasn't trying to fuck anyone in the church. I kinda was going to be busy with the whole 'standing on the stage thing"... thing. However, I hoped it would pick up at the reception. Even fractionally. It did not. In fact, if anything, it got worse. There were exactly 2 attractive girls there that were not my friends, and both of them had boyfriends or husbands with them. I wasn't even talking about hot women, I just meant attractive. Hell, there weren't even any that I didn't expect to see pulling a plow later that day.
Because you know, this couldn't get worse.
Finally, it reached the only part of the entire weekend that I was even marginally looking forward to. The part where everyone is watching me again. The speeches.
As I mentioned above, the bride had asked me to actually write a speech and then submit it to her ahead of time. I did. I also subsequently ignored everything I wrote and just said "fuck it, I'll make it up when I get up there". Like I pretty much always do.
The Maid Of Honor did her speech and got a few jokes about procrastinating because she had only written it the night before. Then it was my turn.
Me: "Well, she did ok for only writing it last night. But she still beat me. I didn't even write one. Well, that's not true. I wrote one because Wifey asked me to. She wanted veto power. Because she apparently knows me well enough to know that she should review things before I say them publicly. she apparently does not know me well enough to know that I would humor her and then still make something up when I got up here. I win."
I proceeded to give a meandering speech that involved spiders taking over the world if they had wings, how much human beings suck, moonshine, and internet gambling. You know... in that patented Joe style that somehow connects all of those things and you're not quite sure how, or if you're smarter or stupider for having read it when you're done. It was like a spoken-word Random Thought.
Somehow, when I was done, I got a standing ovation. I don't even know exactly what I said, but apparently it was quite moving. I don't even know how. I kept myself as the main topic of the whole thing, kind of ignored that there was a wedding going on, and rambled on about nothingness for 10 minutes. Yet apparently it was metaphor for love or something. Or at least that's what some old woman told me. I just smiled and nodded. Yeah, sure. Go ahead and think that. I'd go back and watch the video of it to figure out how the fuck they got that out of what I said, but I don't really care enough.
There's really nothing else funny that happened. I got blindly intoxicated, barely spoke to anyone, and was just generally a gigantic ass to everyone. By the time I left, the only people I was still speaking to were my brother and his wife, my one female friend that I'm still close with, and the other groomsman that I barely know. Hell, I ended up just hanging out with them through most of the reception.
I slept it off at the hotel later and ended up still leaving that night to drive back home. The ceremony was early. Around noon. The reception started at 2 and ended at around 7:00, so by the time I got back to the room, napped to sober up enough to drive, and headed home with my dog, it was around midnight. I walked in the door at around 4am and just went back to bed.
I blame it all on the lack of strippers. With strippers, or with a drunk bus, this could have been salvageable. But instead, it was a total shit show and would have required effort to make it suck more than it did. It was just filled to the gills with suck instead. And was entirely irredeemable.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Random Thought Of The Day #747
Day 747
I got a couple small thoughts for you today. Nothing super in-depth. Here we go:
1. So... I've realized something else that I hate about the Star Wars Prequels...
Basically, it cheapens the Empire. As a bad guy. They're basically around for only about 20 years as a result of the prequels. It makes them a minor inconvenience. A blip in history. A Nixon regime. Or one of the 2 evil Presidents that were on 24. That's pretty much it. And as a result, it kinda cheapens the victory of the Rebellion. They didn't really do any serious Empire-toppling. The Empire wasn't all super-established as being the status-quo of the galazy for many hundreds of years. The Empire wasn't a dark-age. It was basically a thing where most people just kinda said "meh, fuck it. they'll get replaced soon enough" instead of really LIVING under tyranny for many decades or millenia or whatever.
I don't know why this just popped into my head. But I felt like sharing.
So the CIA director's affair got outed and he's quitting. I'm pretty sure I see a Clinton joke in here. But the thing is, I keep hearing about how this could have posed a national security threat and there's all this pontificating about if his fuckbuddy was privy to intelligence info. Those are probably really fascinating questions, but they shouldn't really matter on the question of "should this happening mean that he should quit?".
But it begs the question... how do you implement this law? Will there be Condom Cops running from set to set and inspecting your... equipment... before and after a shoot? Will there be an Office Of Porn in the county that gathers copies of every movie made in their county, as well as any amateur stuff made in the county too? And if so, do they then sit around and watch regional porn? If so... HOW DO I GET THAT JOB? Not only is it a job where you're paid to watch porn to keep an eye out for condom violations, but it's a government gig where you get paid an assload more money than the private sector for the same job... maybe assload wasn't the best word in this case.
I got a couple small thoughts for you today. Nothing super in-depth. Here we go:
1. So... I've realized something else that I hate about the Star Wars Prequels...
I don't know why this just popped into my head. But I felt like sharing.
2. And an entirely unrelated thing.
So the CIA director's affair got outed and he's quitting. I'm pretty sure I see a Clinton joke in here. But the thing is, I keep hearing about how this could have posed a national security threat and there's all this pontificating about if his fuckbuddy was privy to intelligence info. Those are probably really fascinating questions, but they shouldn't really matter on the question of "should this happening mean that he should quit?".
I think the guy should quit because his job is to keep secrets. If he can't keep it a secret that he's banging a reporter on the side, he's probably not that good at his job. I mean... "keep secrets on who are your spies in another country with an intelligence gathering service trying to find out who they are" vs. "who am I fucking"... you tell ME which one sounds harder.
3. So there's a porn condom law in LA County now. This doesn't effect anywhere outside of LA county, so as long as you're not filming IN that county, you're golden. Goodbye tax revenue, County of Los Angeles.
But it begs the question... how do you implement this law? Will there be Condom Cops running from set to set and inspecting your... equipment... before and after a shoot? Will there be an Office Of Porn in the county that gathers copies of every movie made in their county, as well as any amateur stuff made in the county too? And if so, do they then sit around and watch regional porn? If so... HOW DO I GET THAT JOB? Not only is it a job where you're paid to watch porn to keep an eye out for condom violations, but it's a government gig where you get paid an assload more money than the private sector for the same job... maybe assload wasn't the best word in this case.
But regardless, it does give new meaning to "rubber stamp approval".
4. The book is ALMOST available in the Nook store. Another few days. It's still "pending"... it's also available in the iBookstore. Which I found out, much to my chagrin this morning, is NOT the iBooks Store. Fucking christ. It's apparently a site that sells eBooks that are iOS and iBooks compatible but are not actually distributed by the iBooks store. So it looks like I know how I'm going to be spending my evening this week. Copying it all back up and spending like forever and a day learnign how to use the iBooks Author software that Apple has. Jesus fucking christ.
5. That's pretty much all I got for you today. I'm going to go off and suffer a little acute stabby brain pain and pretend to do some work while trying to remember stories for the next book. I've already got about 15 that I've remembered that I know I should put in. And probably another dozen or so once I think more about the stupid shit my friends used to do too.
Friday, November 9, 2012
RTOTD #746.1
Day 746.1
Oh jesus mother fucking christ. We're only in the first full week of November and I already see shit about previews for the Black Friday sales.
And Walmart is now starting Black Friday sales... at like... fucking... dinnertime on Thanksgiving. How does that even work?? That's not fucking Friday! In fact, it's about 7 hours BEFORE friday. Fuck you Walmart.
See, I once made the really stupid decision to go black friday shopping. Well, technically I went twice... but the one time was with an ex girlfriend and her family and they weren't insane about it. They were just in the spirit of Christmas.
No... one time I did actual black friday shopping... In fact, it was entirely spur of the moment.
My friends and I used to have a tradiation. We'd do our Thanksgiving stuff with family and whatnot. The usual thing that everyon does. Then, later in the evening, we would all get together and go see a movie. That's what we did. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter. We would go catch a movie after spending all day with our families. Simple enough.
This year, there were no movies we actually wanted to see. So we said "fuck it, let's go to the bar". And on the way to the bar, we saw a dozen people standing outside Best Buy. We laughed at them. It was very cold and they were fucking idiots for sitting out in that bullshit. But we also said "fuck it.. .if the line is less than double what it is now when we get out of the bar, we'll join them"
About 3 hours later we were all done at the bar. It was only around 10 so I don't know why we were done at the bar so early, but we were. On the way back around to the main road, passing Best Buy again,we noticed that only a handful of people had added onto the existing group. There were maybe 20 people in line total. We decided... "well, I've never done this... let's do this"
We did. For some reason, I still had 2 of those folding park chairs in my trunk. I also had a bottle of vodka. The vodka was about to become useful.
We called a friend and told him what we were doing. There were 3 of us. This friend made us a deal. If we would pick up the one simple thing he wanted to get his mom for Christmas (and didn't want to fight crowds to get it), he would bring us pizza. I demanded a half gallon jug of orange juice too. We accepted this deal.
I ended up spending from about 11:00 until 5 am (when they opened) drinking about 2/3 of a gallon of screwdriver.
Let me tell you... going Black Friday shopping at 5 am, lit the fuck up on almost a gallon of screwdriver and most of a bottle of vodka is REALLY the way to shop. It makes humans almost tolerable.
But see... that was fun. It was ok to do once. It was also stupid and pointless. But you know what made sense about it? It actually started on FRIDAY. I walked into the fucking store on FRIDAY and bought my shit. I did my shopping on FRIDAY. Not fucking THURSDAY half-way through dinner. Then it wouldn't be black mother fucking FRIDAY.
So fuck you Walmart and fuck all of the websites hyping the shit out of christmas shopping already. I hate you. I hope you all die in a fire.
Oh jesus mother fucking christ. We're only in the first full week of November and I already see shit about previews for the Black Friday sales.
And Walmart is now starting Black Friday sales... at like... fucking... dinnertime on Thanksgiving. How does that even work?? That's not fucking Friday! In fact, it's about 7 hours BEFORE friday. Fuck you Walmart.
See, I once made the really stupid decision to go black friday shopping. Well, technically I went twice... but the one time was with an ex girlfriend and her family and they weren't insane about it. They were just in the spirit of Christmas.
No... one time I did actual black friday shopping... In fact, it was entirely spur of the moment.
My friends and I used to have a tradiation. We'd do our Thanksgiving stuff with family and whatnot. The usual thing that everyon does. Then, later in the evening, we would all get together and go see a movie. That's what we did. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter. We would go catch a movie after spending all day with our families. Simple enough.
This year, there were no movies we actually wanted to see. So we said "fuck it, let's go to the bar". And on the way to the bar, we saw a dozen people standing outside Best Buy. We laughed at them. It was very cold and they were fucking idiots for sitting out in that bullshit. But we also said "fuck it.. .if the line is less than double what it is now when we get out of the bar, we'll join them"About 3 hours later we were all done at the bar. It was only around 10 so I don't know why we were done at the bar so early, but we were. On the way back around to the main road, passing Best Buy again,we noticed that only a handful of people had added onto the existing group. There were maybe 20 people in line total. We decided... "well, I've never done this... let's do this"
We did. For some reason, I still had 2 of those folding park chairs in my trunk. I also had a bottle of vodka. The vodka was about to become useful.
We called a friend and told him what we were doing. There were 3 of us. This friend made us a deal. If we would pick up the one simple thing he wanted to get his mom for Christmas (and didn't want to fight crowds to get it), he would bring us pizza. I demanded a half gallon jug of orange juice too. We accepted this deal. I ended up spending from about 11:00 until 5 am (when they opened) drinking about 2/3 of a gallon of screwdriver.
Let me tell you... going Black Friday shopping at 5 am, lit the fuck up on almost a gallon of screwdriver and most of a bottle of vodka is REALLY the way to shop. It makes humans almost tolerable.
But see... that was fun. It was ok to do once. It was also stupid and pointless. But you know what made sense about it? It actually started on FRIDAY. I walked into the fucking store on FRIDAY and bought my shit. I did my shopping on FRIDAY. Not fucking THURSDAY half-way through dinner. Then it wouldn't be black mother fucking FRIDAY.
So fuck you Walmart and fuck all of the websites hyping the shit out of christmas shopping already. I hate you. I hope you all die in a fire.
Random Thought Of The Day #746
Day 746
So you mean to tell me that Abe Lincoln did NOT fight vampires?
Next, you're gonna try telling me that all the 80's and 90's action movie stars don't hang out on the weekends and hire themselves out as mercenaries.
pshhhh... I don't believe you. That shit was totally a documentary on how they spend the weekend.
Oh... and here is a bunch more gratuitious cuteness. Because it's Friday, I'm tired, and I'm still burnt out. This is about the best you're gonna get. Enjoy gratuitious cuteness.
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So you mean to tell me that Abe Lincoln did NOT fight vampires?
Next, you're gonna try telling me that all the 80's and 90's action movie stars don't hang out on the weekends and hire themselves out as mercenaries.
pshhhh... I don't believe you. That shit was totally a documentary on how they spend the weekend.
Oh... and here is a bunch more gratuitious cuteness. Because it's Friday, I'm tired, and I'm still burnt out. This is about the best you're gonna get. Enjoy gratuitious cuteness.
.jpg)
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Random Thought Of The Day #745
Day 745
So... just so we're clear here... we pretty much voted for exactly the same thing we had for the last 2 years, right? Cause you all voted for the same people. Literally nothing changed. So whatever has been going on for 2 years now? Same shit's gonna go on for the next 2 (at least)... so really... let's not be all excited or too dejected everyone. Literally nothing is going to change and nothing has changed. Nothing will get done, whatever direction we're going now is the exact same one we will be going in in 2 years. Maybe faster. Maybe slower. But it'll be the exact same direction. (I really wish I could fine a meme of the elephant and the jackass Eiffel Tower-ing a regular citizen. Cause that's kinda what is going to happen)
Actually one thing will... I'll get a tax increase in January. So will about 62% of the country. Unless something gives one way or another. Which is unlikely to happen unless it's another 2-year extension of the exact same rates we have now. I think the Elephants are going to be hard-line on this and the Jackasses will be too. And everyone else will get fucked in the process. Except for the lowest 38% that didn't pay income taxes in the 90's and still don't pay anything now. Maybe the jackasses will eventually give in to get SOMETHING done and hope to re-take the House in 2014, or the elephants will give in to get something done and hope to do the same, but I doubt it.
But hey... it doesn't really matter.... You know why? BECAUSE I WILL BE TAKING OVER THE WORLD ON DECEMBER 21ST! I will be bringing forth the coming apocalypse. And I shall be immanentizing the eschaton. Many will fall. The world will be purged of the impure. And the ScienceJesus shall rise above you.
Bow before your future overlord. And bring him a sandwich. But not that chicken salad sandwich bullshit. Deli meats. But if you give me bologna or turkey loaf, I will fucking cut you. And if you really want me to like you, throw some Dorito's on the sandwich. It gives it texture. Tell me you didn't do that shit too, right? Or maybe one of those Dorito's Locos Tacos. Has anyone even tried one of them yet? I kinda want to.
And while I'm at it, if you didn't buy the book yet, you should. It's already getting good feedback from the few people that have told me that they bought it in ebook format. And if you have bought it, you should tell other people to buy it too. And maybe give the other day's RTOTD some love or something... gimme a hand here. For all the people telling me how much they were looking forward to it, a little word-of-mouth or just a "love" to the RTOTD announcing that it was released and where to buy it would be helpful. Get other people to notice it kinda thing. I wrote the damn thing. I could use the assistance with a little of the promotion.
Oh jesus... I really HATE pandering. But I love pandas. The short-bus student of the bear world.
So here's some gratuitous panda cuteness. Because... you know... why the fuck not. Maybe it'll calm down the idiots hyperventilating that the evil black man is still in office. And maybe it'll calm down the lunatics that think the messiah has been re-elected and that we should make it a national fucking holiday or something.
So... just so we're clear here... we pretty much voted for exactly the same thing we had for the last 2 years, right? Cause you all voted for the same people. Literally nothing changed. So whatever has been going on for 2 years now? Same shit's gonna go on for the next 2 (at least)... so really... let's not be all excited or too dejected everyone. Literally nothing is going to change and nothing has changed. Nothing will get done, whatever direction we're going now is the exact same one we will be going in in 2 years. Maybe faster. Maybe slower. But it'll be the exact same direction. (I really wish I could fine a meme of the elephant and the jackass Eiffel Tower-ing a regular citizen. Cause that's kinda what is going to happen)
Actually one thing will... I'll get a tax increase in January. So will about 62% of the country. Unless something gives one way or another. Which is unlikely to happen unless it's another 2-year extension of the exact same rates we have now. I think the Elephants are going to be hard-line on this and the Jackasses will be too. And everyone else will get fucked in the process. Except for the lowest 38% that didn't pay income taxes in the 90's and still don't pay anything now. Maybe the jackasses will eventually give in to get SOMETHING done and hope to re-take the House in 2014, or the elephants will give in to get something done and hope to do the same, but I doubt it. But hey... it doesn't really matter.... You know why? BECAUSE I WILL BE TAKING OVER THE WORLD ON DECEMBER 21ST! I will be bringing forth the coming apocalypse. And I shall be immanentizing the eschaton. Many will fall. The world will be purged of the impure. And the ScienceJesus shall rise above you.
Bow before your future overlord. And bring him a sandwich. But not that chicken salad sandwich bullshit. Deli meats. But if you give me bologna or turkey loaf, I will fucking cut you. And if you really want me to like you, throw some Dorito's on the sandwich. It gives it texture. Tell me you didn't do that shit too, right? Or maybe one of those Dorito's Locos Tacos. Has anyone even tried one of them yet? I kinda want to.
And while I'm at it, if you didn't buy the book yet, you should. It's already getting good feedback from the few people that have told me that they bought it in ebook format. And if you have bought it, you should tell other people to buy it too. And maybe give the other day's RTOTD some love or something... gimme a hand here. For all the people telling me how much they were looking forward to it, a little word-of-mouth or just a "love" to the RTOTD announcing that it was released and where to buy it would be helpful. Get other people to notice it kinda thing. I wrote the damn thing. I could use the assistance with a little of the promotion.
Oh jesus... I really HATE pandering. But I love pandas. The short-bus student of the bear world.
So here's some gratuitous panda cuteness. Because... you know... why the fuck not. Maybe it'll calm down the idiots hyperventilating that the evil black man is still in office. And maybe it'll calm down the lunatics that think the messiah has been re-elected and that we should make it a national fucking holiday or something.
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