Monday, February 28, 2011
From an email
"I started reading your blog last year, and lately it seems a lot more interesting. One thing, can you wish me Happy Birthday on February 28?"
Butter me up with a compliment, then ask me for something? We should be dating.
To answer your question, nothing has really changed.
Well, I piss blood, but do you think that would affect the postings on this blog?
Anyway, how do I know you are real? Or more important, how do I know it is your birthday?
Either way, I am not about to let some "person" derail what is a wildly popular blog. No, I'm kidding.
That said, I am not big on birthdays.
I will tell you this, on your birthday, you should do what I do, and pay attention to others. Focus on other people, because in the end, birthdays are kind of silly. Death days are much more important.
Butter me up with a compliment, then ask me for something? We should be dating.
To answer your question, nothing has really changed.
Well, I piss blood, but do you think that would affect the postings on this blog?
Anyway, how do I know you are real? Or more important, how do I know it is your birthday?
Either way, I am not about to let some "person" derail what is a wildly popular blog. No, I'm kidding.
That said, I am not big on birthdays.
I will tell you this, on your birthday, you should do what I do, and pay attention to others. Focus on other people, because in the end, birthdays are kind of silly. Death days are much more important.
Parental advice
As I was walking to a tall building with an empty box this morning, I got to thinking about the wisdom some people have imparted and some not so wise advice I have received about parenting.
I have received a variety of advice from complete strangers, friends and lovers. By far the worst advice has come from lovers, but that is dues almost entirely on my choice of sketchy idiots and addicted losers and much less to do with them actually having real advice. Here is the thing about people who do not have children, their opinions are thus based on silliness and their own childhood experiences. One particularly bad lover of mine was all about withholding any sort of compassion or understanding for the kids, and all about being a mean and angry parent. Why? That's was the only parenting this person ever experienced, drunken, angry and hateful parenting, so when it came time to pretend to be a parent, guess where the knowledge was drawn from?
So it goes with a lot of advice. One of the clearest memories I have of my children when they were young is how many parents of other children would take me aside and say something to the effect of, "sure, they are fun at this age (and this age could be 1-19) but you just wait till they are (todays age plus 2). Then it won't be so much fun."
See, what I learned from these imbeciles was that they were never going to be very good parents, because they, like the addicts and assorted losers I dated, did not see parenting as a positive experience. Instead, these "rug rats" were taking away valuable adult time, and go ahead and fill in your own definition of adult time. For my addict friends, adult time lost mean either sober time or time taken away from cruising online for a hookup. Such were the sad people I was dating back then.
For the other parents who only seemed to hate whatever age their children happened to be, well, I never quite understood their animosity towards raising their own children. When we were actually making the babies, my wife and I had an agreement that one of us would find a way to stay home and raise the children. In happened that I ended up being that person, which is kind of good, my wife did not seem to have the ability or interest in being a parent.
Again though, what I always found interesting was how willing people were to give their brilliant advice on child raising, especially if they were either fractured and damaged adults, or terrible parents. The more damaged adult, the stranger the advice. When Sketchy the Addict was in our life, there was always a sense of mischief, because Sketchy claimed to have had such a dire childhood, drunken and terribly angry parents had made Sketchy mimic that same behavior as an adult pretending to be a parent.
What does this mean? Well, first, parents, even ones trying to be great, are often failing. Parenting is a tough game, pitfalls and the mistakes adults make are often times thrown right into the laps of the children. Divorce, diet, living situations and interaction with decidedly dreary Sketchy people can be as dangerous as the smoker, alcoholic or abusive parent.
Anyway, what I wanted to say was that there are a ton of people who offer advice. The worst advice comes from well meaning idiots, those adults who do not have children, never raised a child, but feel compelled to offer their learned advice on any number of child raising subjects. It's almost like me offering my opinion on abortion, I may have one, it may be important to me, but since I have no ability to actually get pregnant, the advice I would have would be shallow and probably useless. Such is the advice from the well meaning idiots I have seemed to waste time with.
I have received a variety of advice from complete strangers, friends and lovers. By far the worst advice has come from lovers, but that is dues almost entirely on my choice of sketchy idiots and addicted losers and much less to do with them actually having real advice. Here is the thing about people who do not have children, their opinions are thus based on silliness and their own childhood experiences. One particularly bad lover of mine was all about withholding any sort of compassion or understanding for the kids, and all about being a mean and angry parent. Why? That's was the only parenting this person ever experienced, drunken, angry and hateful parenting, so when it came time to pretend to be a parent, guess where the knowledge was drawn from?
So it goes with a lot of advice. One of the clearest memories I have of my children when they were young is how many parents of other children would take me aside and say something to the effect of, "sure, they are fun at this age (and this age could be 1-19) but you just wait till they are (todays age plus 2). Then it won't be so much fun."
See, what I learned from these imbeciles was that they were never going to be very good parents, because they, like the addicts and assorted losers I dated, did not see parenting as a positive experience. Instead, these "rug rats" were taking away valuable adult time, and go ahead and fill in your own definition of adult time. For my addict friends, adult time lost mean either sober time or time taken away from cruising online for a hookup. Such were the sad people I was dating back then.
For the other parents who only seemed to hate whatever age their children happened to be, well, I never quite understood their animosity towards raising their own children. When we were actually making the babies, my wife and I had an agreement that one of us would find a way to stay home and raise the children. In happened that I ended up being that person, which is kind of good, my wife did not seem to have the ability or interest in being a parent.
Again though, what I always found interesting was how willing people were to give their brilliant advice on child raising, especially if they were either fractured and damaged adults, or terrible parents. The more damaged adult, the stranger the advice. When Sketchy the Addict was in our life, there was always a sense of mischief, because Sketchy claimed to have had such a dire childhood, drunken and terribly angry parents had made Sketchy mimic that same behavior as an adult pretending to be a parent.
What does this mean? Well, first, parents, even ones trying to be great, are often failing. Parenting is a tough game, pitfalls and the mistakes adults make are often times thrown right into the laps of the children. Divorce, diet, living situations and interaction with decidedly dreary Sketchy people can be as dangerous as the smoker, alcoholic or abusive parent.
Anyway, what I wanted to say was that there are a ton of people who offer advice. The worst advice comes from well meaning idiots, those adults who do not have children, never raised a child, but feel compelled to offer their learned advice on any number of child raising subjects. It's almost like me offering my opinion on abortion, I may have one, it may be important to me, but since I have no ability to actually get pregnant, the advice I would have would be shallow and probably useless. Such is the advice from the well meaning idiots I have seemed to waste time with.
Permission
"Matt, I found this blog via a google search and just so you know, I was unpacking a box and found a script you had written for a new story we covered in 1987. I saw your name, was flooded with memories and Googled you.
First some of the memories..."
I got this letter yesterday.
I wrote back and asked for permission to publish it here, still waiting.
Things I did not know about me.
I had sex in a newsroom, with my boss.
I almost punched a racist murderer, while he was awaiting trial, in a jail interview, with the sheriff in the room.
I fell in love with a beautiful weather reporter. Back then I was shallow, when we did meet, she had a huge ass and I found a reason to cut it short and leave.
I did not do crack.
We accidentally took credit for a series of environmental hoaxes.
I rode a bike around the Catskills for a summer.
Permer was in his prime, memorable to this day, sexy and sophisticated.
When our news station switched formats one Friday and we were both immediately out of a job, by the end of the weekend I was gone, not a trace, phone number or any idea where I had gone. Until this letter, we had not been in touch.
First some of the memories..."
I got this letter yesterday.
I wrote back and asked for permission to publish it here, still waiting.
Things I did not know about me.
I had sex in a newsroom, with my boss.
I almost punched a racist murderer, while he was awaiting trial, in a jail interview, with the sheriff in the room.
I fell in love with a beautiful weather reporter. Back then I was shallow, when we did meet, she had a huge ass and I found a reason to cut it short and leave.
I did not do crack.
We accidentally took credit for a series of environmental hoaxes.
I rode a bike around the Catskills for a summer.
Permer was in his prime, memorable to this day, sexy and sophisticated.
When our news station switched formats one Friday and we were both immediately out of a job, by the end of the weekend I was gone, not a trace, phone number or any idea where I had gone. Until this letter, we had not been in touch.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
The nicest guy
Here is something interesting. I am in the midst of some bad days, but they were expected, predictable, so all in all, not really a surprise.
Yesterday. I drove to this nice little area of the city, and decided I would park in the far corner of the parking lot and walk the distance of the entire area, a few miles, but it was a sunny day, cold, but beautifully sunny.
I purchased a pair of pants that seemed kind of nice and kept walking. At some point, about an hour into just sort of window shopping and walking, I got kind of dizzy, again, this was expected, but a little shocking how all of a sudden all around me became a blur. I sat down almost immediately. Of course, people around me scurried about, not bothering with the man sitting in the sidewalk.
Then this swell young man stopped and leaned down to me. He asked me some questions, although in retrospect, I can not remember a single one. He did get me something to drink and helped me to a bench. He gave me his card, and said he had to get back to work.
After a time I was feeling better, although I was at least a mile from my car, so I started slowly making my way back when I saw the name of the business that was on the young mans card. Strange as it was, I decided to go in and see if I could get a new prescription for glasses. The card owner was the doctor at this facility, he saw me as he was looking over some paperwork, and he stopped what he was doing to meet me at the door. We walked back to his office and this time he asked me about my sidewalk drama. I explained to him what is going on inside my body, he totally got it and we then moved on to glasses.
So, what he ended up doing was testing my vision, and fixing my prescription and then making sure my new glasses would be done in no time. So, to make sure he was the nicest guy in the world, he gave me a drive back to my car.
So when I am thinking of the bad people who seem to flood into my life and quickly get flushed out, I will happily remember the nicest guy in the whole wide world.
Yesterday. I drove to this nice little area of the city, and decided I would park in the far corner of the parking lot and walk the distance of the entire area, a few miles, but it was a sunny day, cold, but beautifully sunny.
I purchased a pair of pants that seemed kind of nice and kept walking. At some point, about an hour into just sort of window shopping and walking, I got kind of dizzy, again, this was expected, but a little shocking how all of a sudden all around me became a blur. I sat down almost immediately. Of course, people around me scurried about, not bothering with the man sitting in the sidewalk.
Then this swell young man stopped and leaned down to me. He asked me some questions, although in retrospect, I can not remember a single one. He did get me something to drink and helped me to a bench. He gave me his card, and said he had to get back to work.
After a time I was feeling better, although I was at least a mile from my car, so I started slowly making my way back when I saw the name of the business that was on the young mans card. Strange as it was, I decided to go in and see if I could get a new prescription for glasses. The card owner was the doctor at this facility, he saw me as he was looking over some paperwork, and he stopped what he was doing to meet me at the door. We walked back to his office and this time he asked me about my sidewalk drama. I explained to him what is going on inside my body, he totally got it and we then moved on to glasses.
So, what he ended up doing was testing my vision, and fixing my prescription and then making sure my new glasses would be done in no time. So, to make sure he was the nicest guy in the world, he gave me a drive back to my car.
So when I am thinking of the bad people who seem to flood into my life and quickly get flushed out, I will happily remember the nicest guy in the whole wide world.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Modern love, via youtube, or porn
"Been reading your blog (I usually edit this shit out) and I saw you answering relationship questions (this part too). So, I have been dating this amazing guy for about 6 months (and another relationship letter from a gay couple). About two months in I had a business trip to San Francisco (gay couple warning). I ended up hooking up with this hot guy, and we filmed it (of course). When I got home I downloaded the video on my computer and made my own little movie (straight guys never edit their hand made porn). Just the hot scenes (what else were you filming, dialog?) It was great. I didn't post it anywhere, so it's not floating around the internet machine (OK, see you redeem yourself). But my amazing boyfriend was using my computer and he stumbled across the movie and lost his shit. I told him I had filmed myself, but I said it was before he and I had met. We have been "monogamous" since we met. Or so he thought. I feel like shit, got a suggestion?"
Why yes, I do have a suggestion. Wait, how many times stupid are you? You have an amazing boyfriend, who thinks your kind of monogamous, even two months in, and you skip off to San Francisco and not only stupidly hook up, but you really stupidly film it, and then, as if you were not guilty of majorly stupid, you decide to edit it on your computer, because quite honestly, that is as stupid as any single human being can be capable of, oh wait, not only are you supremely stupid, I mean out of this galaxy stupid, but to beat any contender in history you really go and out stupid even championship idiots, you lend your home movie filled computer to this amazing man who thinks you are monogamous.
Now, about that suggestion.
You know, for the majority of your time together, you have been honest and monogamous. I think. I mean, you fessed up to the San Francisco movie making experience, but you did not mention the others, if there are others. Oh, and you lied to your lover about this escapade. That might classify as strike two. I mean, it's pretty obvious to me that you wanted to get caught. I would do the honorable thing.
Then again, I don't have any video of me. No, wait, actually I do. OK, I take everything back.
Why yes, I do have a suggestion. Wait, how many times stupid are you? You have an amazing boyfriend, who thinks your kind of monogamous, even two months in, and you skip off to San Francisco and not only stupidly hook up, but you really stupidly film it, and then, as if you were not guilty of majorly stupid, you decide to edit it on your computer, because quite honestly, that is as stupid as any single human being can be capable of, oh wait, not only are you supremely stupid, I mean out of this galaxy stupid, but to beat any contender in history you really go and out stupid even championship idiots, you lend your home movie filled computer to this amazing man who thinks you are monogamous.
Now, about that suggestion.
You know, for the majority of your time together, you have been honest and monogamous. I think. I mean, you fessed up to the San Francisco movie making experience, but you did not mention the others, if there are others. Oh, and you lied to your lover about this escapade. That might classify as strike two. I mean, it's pretty obvious to me that you wanted to get caught. I would do the honorable thing.
Then again, I don't have any video of me. No, wait, actually I do. OK, I take everything back.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Apple pandering
OK, no word from Fiat or Google, so I am now pandering for an Apple Mac Book Pro, the new version was released today and I could use one to continue this blog. You may not have noticed it, but the J on my keyboard is all flippy and sometimes it ust does not work. See?
Needless plug, here.
Step up Apple. There may be millions reading this, or 15000, either way, about time you showed some respect.
Needless plug, here.
Step up Apple. There may be millions reading this, or 15000, either way, about time you showed some respect.
Welcome back
If I were as eloquent as Donald Rumsfeld, I would say, there are something I know, somethings I think I know and somethings I will never know.
That said, a few years ago I could stand naked in front of a mirror, something men should not really do after the age of about 22, and I would look at my bruised body. The vast majority of the time, I would not know where the bruises came from, what had happened to cause them and why there always seemed to be so many is different places.
I was just downstairs in the gym in my work building, doing a long endurance training. How long? I watched the entire film Taken while running and lifting weights. When finished I stripped down for a shower and of course, modern gym and all, there was a floor to ceiling mirror. I stopped to look over my aging, sweaty body and I was shocked. Bruises, shoulders, uppper legs, even one on my back.
Welcome back bruises. I missed you, this time I have a better understanding of where you come from. I will give you 84 days, then we must part.
That said, a few years ago I could stand naked in front of a mirror, something men should not really do after the age of about 22, and I would look at my bruised body. The vast majority of the time, I would not know where the bruises came from, what had happened to cause them and why there always seemed to be so many is different places.
I was just downstairs in the gym in my work building, doing a long endurance training. How long? I watched the entire film Taken while running and lifting weights. When finished I stripped down for a shower and of course, modern gym and all, there was a floor to ceiling mirror. I stopped to look over my aging, sweaty body and I was shocked. Bruises, shoulders, uppper legs, even one on my back.
Welcome back bruises. I missed you, this time I have a better understanding of where you come from. I will give you 84 days, then we must part.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Then there was this
In response to a post from a woman and her beer swilling "partner" I got some email responses, but none more eloquent than this:
"It has nothing to do with where they're from, but more to do with their independence and their attitude overall. They are basically fuckin "know it alls." You try to say or do something helpful for them and they look at you like you're a fuckin idiot. Don't try to render an opinion on any matter or subject that doesn't agree with their own, or you're asking for trouble. They want to be right all of the time. They want to be dominant. They want to be first. They want to be queen and they expect everyone to kiss their fuckin asses and pamper them.
Well I've got news for you. I've stopped catering to you cunts many years ago. I will continue to treat you all just like the fuckin pigs that you are.
BTW, most can't cook, clean, or do their womanly chores. Many can't even raise their own children properly. Do you really believe that men have to put up with your shit?? Other than a blow job or strange piece of ass I get from time to time, you really aren't needed in my life and I definitely plan to keep it that way."
OK.
I like womanly chores, I do.
Plus, I like that you have forsaken most women, except for infrequent visits to their womanly parts.
That's about it. I wonder if you are smart enough to realize that a shitty attitude towards other people generally only attracts shitty people. So, you hate women, hate them for almost everything about them and then, of course, can not seem to find a quality woman.
I also bet you are a real winner too.
Never mind. Sometimes I need to just let letters from people speak for themselves.
"It has nothing to do with where they're from, but more to do with their independence and their attitude overall. They are basically fuckin "know it alls." You try to say or do something helpful for them and they look at you like you're a fuckin idiot. Don't try to render an opinion on any matter or subject that doesn't agree with their own, or you're asking for trouble. They want to be right all of the time. They want to be dominant. They want to be first. They want to be queen and they expect everyone to kiss their fuckin asses and pamper them.
Well I've got news for you. I've stopped catering to you cunts many years ago. I will continue to treat you all just like the fuckin pigs that you are.
BTW, most can't cook, clean, or do their womanly chores. Many can't even raise their own children properly. Do you really believe that men have to put up with your shit?? Other than a blow job or strange piece of ass I get from time to time, you really aren't needed in my life and I definitely plan to keep it that way."
OK.
I like womanly chores, I do.
Plus, I like that you have forsaken most women, except for infrequent visits to their womanly parts.
That's about it. I wonder if you are smart enough to realize that a shitty attitude towards other people generally only attracts shitty people. So, you hate women, hate them for almost everything about them and then, of course, can not seem to find a quality woman.
I also bet you are a real winner too.
Never mind. Sometimes I need to just let letters from people speak for themselves.
The real poop
Oh my.
First, a couple of people have commented on the Google ads on the side of the blog. First, it should come as no surprise to anyone that the number of hits for this blog continues to grow, because really, when you think about it, what is more important than relationship advice from someone who knows nothing about relationships?
Or better, financial advice from a complete moron.
Still, as people have pointed out in comments and a couple of emails, the Google ads are kind of funny, because the pick up certain words and then the ads link to those. So when Sketchy the Addict is mentioned, we get ads for rehab and treatment. So if I title a post with the word poop in it, it should be funny to see what happens.
For whatever reason I was flooded with questions via twitter and email last night, and I may get to them, but first, I am praising AT&T wireless. Why? Certainly not the service or the connectivity. No, there is a guy in their corporate office who was nice enough to allow me to drop the service and all my lines, and not charges me the dreaded Early Termination Fee.
Speaking of early termination, I had our dog put to sleep yesterday.
Anyway, AT&T Wireless was nice and professional, and for that, a big thank you.
Speaking of scummy companies, we went on a date this past weekend, casual and simple. We ended up deciding on a Red Robin restaurant, because it was close and sometimes the food is edible. We were seated almost immediately and the little chirpy said our waiter would be right with us. A good ten minutes went by and a huge family of four was seated near by. Immediately they had water delivered and a drink order taken, we had not.
About 7 minutes later, a waiter breezed by to inform us that he was swamped and would be right back. Five more minutes and the fat family was enjoying appetizers and drinks, we did not have water. When the waiter finally arrived, I asked to speak with his manager, because really, for no reason, we had just been left behind. So, in a short while, this frisky young woman came by, she was so so sorry we had been forgotten and she promptly took our drink order (water) and offered a gift of some onion rings, yikes.
So a pile of greasy onion rings arrived, as did a new waitress, the frenzied young man was gone. All went well, the food was almost adequate, the service almost too in our face and the final bill arrived, with, of course, the complimentary onion rings on it. We paid, but left zero tip, such was our disdain for the Red Robin franchise.
When I got home, I was still a little upset and decided to write an email to the Red Robin corporate office. The complain form requests the managers name, so I called and I was asked to hold, and who should pick up the phone? The manager who "mistakenly" charged for the complimentary onion rings. Sorry about this, sorry about that, dodge and move and on and on. She was going to send me a gift certificate and the world would be a peace. I mentioned that I was sending an email to the corporate office and she thought that would be appropriate.
So, yesterday, I did get a response from Red Robin corporate offices, acknowledging my email and promising that this "issue" would be resolved. Of course, resolution is called service in the restaurant business, so I doubt anything will be done. Of course, no gift certificate was sent, no apology made and the food, well, digested.
The lesson I learned? First, Red Robin is kind of skeezy. Oh, I guess that's the lesson.
AT&T Good, Red Robin, Bad.
First, a couple of people have commented on the Google ads on the side of the blog. First, it should come as no surprise to anyone that the number of hits for this blog continues to grow, because really, when you think about it, what is more important than relationship advice from someone who knows nothing about relationships?
Or better, financial advice from a complete moron.
Still, as people have pointed out in comments and a couple of emails, the Google ads are kind of funny, because the pick up certain words and then the ads link to those. So when Sketchy the Addict is mentioned, we get ads for rehab and treatment. So if I title a post with the word poop in it, it should be funny to see what happens.
For whatever reason I was flooded with questions via twitter and email last night, and I may get to them, but first, I am praising AT&T wireless. Why? Certainly not the service or the connectivity. No, there is a guy in their corporate office who was nice enough to allow me to drop the service and all my lines, and not charges me the dreaded Early Termination Fee.
Speaking of early termination, I had our dog put to sleep yesterday.
Anyway, AT&T Wireless was nice and professional, and for that, a big thank you.
Speaking of scummy companies, we went on a date this past weekend, casual and simple. We ended up deciding on a Red Robin restaurant, because it was close and sometimes the food is edible. We were seated almost immediately and the little chirpy said our waiter would be right with us. A good ten minutes went by and a huge family of four was seated near by. Immediately they had water delivered and a drink order taken, we had not.
About 7 minutes later, a waiter breezed by to inform us that he was swamped and would be right back. Five more minutes and the fat family was enjoying appetizers and drinks, we did not have water. When the waiter finally arrived, I asked to speak with his manager, because really, for no reason, we had just been left behind. So, in a short while, this frisky young woman came by, she was so so sorry we had been forgotten and she promptly took our drink order (water) and offered a gift of some onion rings, yikes.
So a pile of greasy onion rings arrived, as did a new waitress, the frenzied young man was gone. All went well, the food was almost adequate, the service almost too in our face and the final bill arrived, with, of course, the complimentary onion rings on it. We paid, but left zero tip, such was our disdain for the Red Robin franchise.
When I got home, I was still a little upset and decided to write an email to the Red Robin corporate office. The complain form requests the managers name, so I called and I was asked to hold, and who should pick up the phone? The manager who "mistakenly" charged for the complimentary onion rings. Sorry about this, sorry about that, dodge and move and on and on. She was going to send me a gift certificate and the world would be a peace. I mentioned that I was sending an email to the corporate office and she thought that would be appropriate.
So, yesterday, I did get a response from Red Robin corporate offices, acknowledging my email and promising that this "issue" would be resolved. Of course, resolution is called service in the restaurant business, so I doubt anything will be done. Of course, no gift certificate was sent, no apology made and the food, well, digested.
The lesson I learned? First, Red Robin is kind of skeezy. Oh, I guess that's the lesson.
AT&T Good, Red Robin, Bad.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
A sketchy letter
"I read your blog and I have been paying special attention to your posts regarding Sketchy The Addict. As a recovering alcoholic I wanted to say sometimes you are a bit brash with your opinion, but it also seems like "Sketchy" is a sad case with a lot of demons, so maybe Sketchy deserves it. I am writing because my partner, he's a man, I'm a woman, does this mean thing to me. I do not drink anything with alcohol in it, it is part of my recovery. He, on the other hand, can drink and does. Sometimes after work, he will stop and have a couple of beers with his friends and generally after such times he comes home and wants to have sex. I like having sex with my partner, but the smell of beer on his breath drives me crazy, and not the good kind of crazy. I have told him I would appreciate it if he came home, showered and brushed his teeth, but he refuses to do that. I could withhold intimacy until he does, but I like to think of myself as good to go, and I do like being with him, sexually. I am not sure if what he is doing is mean, intentional or just a guy with a buzz being horny. Suggestions?"
First, congratulations to you for being clean and sober. Not to belittle the Sketchy the Addict idiocy, but he is both not clean, not sober and not recovered.
That said, your "partner" is kind of a dick.
That said, I like that you are good to go. If more people in relationships had your attitude, I am guessing there would be more people in relationships. I have a bunch of letters from people, both men and women, who have partners who have just stopped being interested in sexing it up. So, good for you for being into it.
So, you have talked with beer drinking partner about your discomfort with drinking and coming home smelling like a brewery and wanted to do the hetro nasty. You do not want to stop being sexual with beer drinking partner just because he won't listen to your discomfort. He won't respect your wishes.
I don't know. How about you are both at fault. See, you have told him you would appreciate a clean plate when you sit down for your sex dinner thing, jesus that metaphor did not work at all, but I am too lazy to edit. You both seem rather passive and aggressive, which is very typical of both a clean and sober person and an dick who drinks and refuses to at least brush his teeth.
Since you are not willing to play games with the sex, which I admire, and he is unwilling to clean up after a bar binge, you got me. Try garlic. He calls on his way home, says he is heading to the bar, start eating massive amounts of garlic. When he comes home, plant a big kiss right on his drunken lips. See if he likes the garlic. Negotiate from there.
If that does not work, maybe it's time for you to just admit this battle is not yours to win. In relationships we always have to face that fact. Sometimes something important to us is just not that important to our partner, and in your case, it sounds like the hotness is more important than the smell of beer.
I could never sex it up with a smoker, I would not be able to get past the smell. You have no issue like that with beer. Probably time for you to let it go.
First, congratulations to you for being clean and sober. Not to belittle the Sketchy the Addict idiocy, but he is both not clean, not sober and not recovered.
That said, your "partner" is kind of a dick.
That said, I like that you are good to go. If more people in relationships had your attitude, I am guessing there would be more people in relationships. I have a bunch of letters from people, both men and women, who have partners who have just stopped being interested in sexing it up. So, good for you for being into it.
So, you have talked with beer drinking partner about your discomfort with drinking and coming home smelling like a brewery and wanted to do the hetro nasty. You do not want to stop being sexual with beer drinking partner just because he won't listen to your discomfort. He won't respect your wishes.
I don't know. How about you are both at fault. See, you have told him you would appreciate a clean plate when you sit down for your sex dinner thing, jesus that metaphor did not work at all, but I am too lazy to edit. You both seem rather passive and aggressive, which is very typical of both a clean and sober person and an dick who drinks and refuses to at least brush his teeth.
Since you are not willing to play games with the sex, which I admire, and he is unwilling to clean up after a bar binge, you got me. Try garlic. He calls on his way home, says he is heading to the bar, start eating massive amounts of garlic. When he comes home, plant a big kiss right on his drunken lips. See if he likes the garlic. Negotiate from there.
If that does not work, maybe it's time for you to just admit this battle is not yours to win. In relationships we always have to face that fact. Sometimes something important to us is just not that important to our partner, and in your case, it sounds like the hotness is more important than the smell of beer.
I could never sex it up with a smoker, I would not be able to get past the smell. You have no issue like that with beer. Probably time for you to let it go.
Another Fiat post
As anyone who reads every single letter on this blog, you know as well as I do that it is my responsibility to kiss ass to the powers that be at FIAT to get me one of the new 500 cars.
Sure, I tried this same stunt with the Google laptop, which by the way fell flat, both my attempts to get a test laptop and Googles attempts to reinvent the wheel. So to Google, I say, next time, score me one and I will pimp that shit.
Now, Fiat executives, you may be wondering about the power of this blog. Well, fear not, the vast majority of the people who read this blog found it by searching for "big breasted Italian women." It's true, I get reports.
So, imagine, all those slobs googling Big Breast Italian Women and finding this fascinating blog, which contains nothing about big breast, italian women or much of anything else, if you know what I mean. What it does contain is thousands of hits, maybe millions by the time I find a way to get Fiat's attention, and those people, the breast searchers and the lonely, the depressed and the people not working at work, all those people will someday wonder why they do not have a new Fiat 500. You know why? Because I am going to mention it, post pictures, describe in painful detail and brag about my new Fiat 500. Why? Because you, dear corporate hooligan, plan to give me one for, let's just say 2 years.
Dear readers,
Please go to the Fiat site and sign up for whatever they want you to sign up for. A test drive would be nice, as is the Fiat 500 watch, I know this because I have been bribed with a Fiat 500 watch and sometimes, twice a day or so, it is accurate. While at the Fiat 500 site, you go ahead and try to figure out when the American release date is, because for the life of me, I have no clue.
Dear Fiat executives,
I will do what it takes to get the readers of this blog to feign interest in your car, on that, my promise is indeed secure. In fact, if you send me a car and promise another for a reader, I will even run some contest, again, my promise is sacred.
I will be waiting patiently on my porch, until that big giant FIAT truck pulls up and some zesty Italian delivery man asks for my help removing my car from his truck. Thank you in advance Fiat. You people really are just swell.
A very good year
I wonder if it is all in the outlook when we decide what is good and what is not. There was a time when I found myself in the midst of a series of bad years. Everything just went wrong, from forming a new business to forming new relationships. I had the opposite Midas touch, no matter what I chose to do, it was bad news. Of course, the key word is choice.
So, since January of 2010 things have been improving and this may have just as much to do with astronomical hoo haa as it does with personal outlook. I woke up on that cold January and knew that the previous 5 years were a test and I had survived and it was time to make changes. Some would take longer to process, like finding a way to the Sketchy the Addict removed from the premises, and some would not take long at all, a mental road map as it were.
This year has been kind of amazing. It started with me making a final payment on a debt I incurred a couple of years ago when I sold my house. In some ways I thought of that as a shameful end to my life in the Pacific Northwest, but when I wrote that final check and a week later got an official letter thanking me, it was just a little bit amazing.
Around that time I offered up this blog as some sort of advice forum and all of a sudden I was flooded with letters, some heartfelt, some not, but over a hundred emails came in and every now and then I post one and pretend I know the answer. Instead of this blog following the exploits of the banking/financial world, it has become something different and different is proving to be a good thing.
Tangible things matter. Email and electronic postings are fine and give people something to read while they use the bathroom, but in the end it is the things we do, and the things we do for others that really matter. In January I decided to rid my house of unwanted stuff, some of it good stuff, some just unnecessary stuff, but all of it taking up space and not being used. I made over 5 trips to the local Goodwill store and donated everything from clothes to computers to art work and it was a glorious few days. First, for me, it cleaned out the house and second, for people in general, they would be able to buy decent stuff for a cheap price. Win win.
I have a friend of a couple of years from Little Falls New York. A year or so ago I almost purchased a house in Little Falls, which is a small community near Utica. It is a beautiful little town, old buildings, great parks and very nice people. I had befriended a young carpenter there and when I was looking at a house that needed a lot of work, he would meet me at the house with the real estate person and he made a list of all the things the house would need to be livable. We have been in touch the last few weeks, his construction company is slow in the winter and he has offered his services to finishing up some of the projects in this Pittsburgh house. He has offered to stay here until Spring, do the work, enjoy life in Pittsburgh and charge me, well, nothing.
Now, good friends don't usually work for free, but there is a point here. Good friends do step up, they offer, they do what they can, and they kind of expect the same in return. This falls into why this is an amazing time. Economy sucks, and so many people are looking for anything. Now, I do not have a ton of money, but we have good dinners and a dog who seems only capable of love, so staying with us is kind of a treat all unto itself.
When I say this has been a good year so far, that does not mean it has not had any negative sides to it. My sense is that we all face some sort of drama in our lives, sometimes daily, sometimes hardly ever, but no matter when it shows up, it really is a matter of perspective on how we deal with it. Bad things happen, sad things too, we deal and move on. Good things happen, let's focus on those and see how that works.
So, since January of 2010 things have been improving and this may have just as much to do with astronomical hoo haa as it does with personal outlook. I woke up on that cold January and knew that the previous 5 years were a test and I had survived and it was time to make changes. Some would take longer to process, like finding a way to the Sketchy the Addict removed from the premises, and some would not take long at all, a mental road map as it were.
This year has been kind of amazing. It started with me making a final payment on a debt I incurred a couple of years ago when I sold my house. In some ways I thought of that as a shameful end to my life in the Pacific Northwest, but when I wrote that final check and a week later got an official letter thanking me, it was just a little bit amazing.
Around that time I offered up this blog as some sort of advice forum and all of a sudden I was flooded with letters, some heartfelt, some not, but over a hundred emails came in and every now and then I post one and pretend I know the answer. Instead of this blog following the exploits of the banking/financial world, it has become something different and different is proving to be a good thing.
Tangible things matter. Email and electronic postings are fine and give people something to read while they use the bathroom, but in the end it is the things we do, and the things we do for others that really matter. In January I decided to rid my house of unwanted stuff, some of it good stuff, some just unnecessary stuff, but all of it taking up space and not being used. I made over 5 trips to the local Goodwill store and donated everything from clothes to computers to art work and it was a glorious few days. First, for me, it cleaned out the house and second, for people in general, they would be able to buy decent stuff for a cheap price. Win win.
I have a friend of a couple of years from Little Falls New York. A year or so ago I almost purchased a house in Little Falls, which is a small community near Utica. It is a beautiful little town, old buildings, great parks and very nice people. I had befriended a young carpenter there and when I was looking at a house that needed a lot of work, he would meet me at the house with the real estate person and he made a list of all the things the house would need to be livable. We have been in touch the last few weeks, his construction company is slow in the winter and he has offered his services to finishing up some of the projects in this Pittsburgh house. He has offered to stay here until Spring, do the work, enjoy life in Pittsburgh and charge me, well, nothing.
Now, good friends don't usually work for free, but there is a point here. Good friends do step up, they offer, they do what they can, and they kind of expect the same in return. This falls into why this is an amazing time. Economy sucks, and so many people are looking for anything. Now, I do not have a ton of money, but we have good dinners and a dog who seems only capable of love, so staying with us is kind of a treat all unto itself.
When I say this has been a good year so far, that does not mean it has not had any negative sides to it. My sense is that we all face some sort of drama in our lives, sometimes daily, sometimes hardly ever, but no matter when it shows up, it really is a matter of perspective on how we deal with it. Bad things happen, sad things too, we deal and move on. Good things happen, let's focus on those and see how that works.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Elevator encounters
I like the word swarthy.
I got in the elevator this morning, alone, at peace and ready to finish my coffee and pretend like the person I was going to see was interesting.
The doors were closing and a mans hand slid between the doors, triggering the mechanism and opening the doors again. A "swarthy" man wearing a polyester shirt that was a couple of sizes too small walked in, reeking of male perfume and some sort of organic hair tonic, I'd guess olive oil, but someone would accuse me of being racist, or something.
Stinky Swarthy man walked in, no eye contact and pushed 46. The elevator filled with whatever stench perfume bullshit he bothered to buy in bulk. I was almost gagging. I said to him, "what sort of male perfume is that you are wearing?" He finally looked over at me and said, "hang on a second, the guy in the elevator likes my after shave." I was astonished, "aftershave? You must have done a full body shave to smell so strongly."
He looked back at the closed door, "yeah, he's a real joker. Hey joker, you don't like my aftershave, get off the elevator." "But, I was here first."
I looked up at the display, we are heading toward 37, he was going to 46, it could be a long ride. I pushed 10 and the elevator slowed. The doors opened and I walked out. The hallway outside the elevator did not smell like a cheap male porn star.
I will never understand neurotic men and their need to hide behind such a strong aroma of fear and ineptitude.
I got in the elevator this morning, alone, at peace and ready to finish my coffee and pretend like the person I was going to see was interesting.
The doors were closing and a mans hand slid between the doors, triggering the mechanism and opening the doors again. A "swarthy" man wearing a polyester shirt that was a couple of sizes too small walked in, reeking of male perfume and some sort of organic hair tonic, I'd guess olive oil, but someone would accuse me of being racist, or something.
Stinky Swarthy man walked in, no eye contact and pushed 46. The elevator filled with whatever stench perfume bullshit he bothered to buy in bulk. I was almost gagging. I said to him, "what sort of male perfume is that you are wearing?" He finally looked over at me and said, "hang on a second, the guy in the elevator likes my after shave." I was astonished, "aftershave? You must have done a full body shave to smell so strongly."
He looked back at the closed door, "yeah, he's a real joker. Hey joker, you don't like my aftershave, get off the elevator." "But, I was here first."
I looked up at the display, we are heading toward 37, he was going to 46, it could be a long ride. I pushed 10 and the elevator slowed. The doors opened and I walked out. The hallway outside the elevator did not smell like a cheap male porn star.
I will never understand neurotic men and their need to hide behind such a strong aroma of fear and ineptitude.
Complex relationships
"I have read some of the posts you did recently on relationships and I think you kind of answered some of my issues, but some you skidded over and I may not have read all your posts, so if this is something you have answered before please just send me a link and if not, maybe give it some thought and let me know what you think. I am 2.5 years into a great relationship, except that the intimate part of our relationship is waning. The first few months of getting to know each other was filled with experimentation and just a lot of sexual activity, and now it seems to be gone. Part of our issue is that about a year ago she told me that she was sexually abused as a child and since that time things have steadily gone downhill as far as passion goes. Now I am worried that if I push things, I will just be another man who takes advantage and if I don't get more sex, I will be another man who left her. Help."
Oh, this old story. Man complains about not enough sex and I am supposed to give you a simple and clear answer on how to either get more and leave her guilt free.
Two and a half years is quite a long time in relationship terms. You never describe any sort of love in this relationship, just greatness.
First and foremost you are not responsible for her sexual abuse as a child, in fact, it does not sound like she has dealt with that in a meaningful way, and that problem is the glaring trouble that is sinking your relationship. What to do? I have no clue. These are murky waters at best. Couples counseling may be a great way for the both of you to find a safe place to discuss your troubles. She may not see the link between telling you of the abuse and the loss of sexual interest.
That said, have you ever had a 2+ year relationship? The sexual variety and frequency tend to diminish. That is not generally a bad thing, it is what it is. You may want to check yourself before you seek counseling. First question, do you love your damaged girlfriend and if you do not love her, did you love her before she told you about the abuse. See, you may end up being one of those guys who freaks out at the little aspect of reality. I know quite a few men who, when confronted with their girlfriend/wifes past sexuality, they lose it, as if they suspected they were marrying a 30 year old virgin.
Whatever you do, man up and do it the right way. First do a reality check with yourself and see if you have changed in the last year. Also really look at this as honestly as possible and see if you love this woman. If you do, ask her about seeing a counselor together and then find a serious, brilliant counselor, because between the two of you, work needs to be done. Finally, realize we are all damaged people, you, me, her and just about everyone else over the age of 18 months. Some people hide it better than others, some don't and some let childhood trauma ruin their adult lives.
Deal with it.
Oh, this old story. Man complains about not enough sex and I am supposed to give you a simple and clear answer on how to either get more and leave her guilt free.
Two and a half years is quite a long time in relationship terms. You never describe any sort of love in this relationship, just greatness.
First and foremost you are not responsible for her sexual abuse as a child, in fact, it does not sound like she has dealt with that in a meaningful way, and that problem is the glaring trouble that is sinking your relationship. What to do? I have no clue. These are murky waters at best. Couples counseling may be a great way for the both of you to find a safe place to discuss your troubles. She may not see the link between telling you of the abuse and the loss of sexual interest.
That said, have you ever had a 2+ year relationship? The sexual variety and frequency tend to diminish. That is not generally a bad thing, it is what it is. You may want to check yourself before you seek counseling. First question, do you love your damaged girlfriend and if you do not love her, did you love her before she told you about the abuse. See, you may end up being one of those guys who freaks out at the little aspect of reality. I know quite a few men who, when confronted with their girlfriend/wifes past sexuality, they lose it, as if they suspected they were marrying a 30 year old virgin.
Whatever you do, man up and do it the right way. First do a reality check with yourself and see if you have changed in the last year. Also really look at this as honestly as possible and see if you love this woman. If you do, ask her about seeing a counselor together and then find a serious, brilliant counselor, because between the two of you, work needs to be done. Finally, realize we are all damaged people, you, me, her and just about everyone else over the age of 18 months. Some people hide it better than others, some don't and some let childhood trauma ruin their adult lives.
Deal with it.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
The coffee pot metaphor
A couple of years ago, in what was to become a semi-annual moving experience, I lost my coffee maker. I tend to make coffee every morning and so the loss was quickly felt. Off I went to the store and found a decent coffee maker for a good price.
I am not picky about the actual coffee maker, it is all basic when you get down to it. What I have found important are the beans. I grind beans instead of purchasing pre-ground beans. At some point I owned a small restaurant and one of the things I wanted to be perfect was the coffee, so I studied and found out a few tricks, key among them, good beans, ground for the coffee you are making, not in advance.
I brought the new coffee maker home, ran some water through it and brewed up a pot and right then I knew some designer was not a coffee drinker. No matter how you poured the coffee out of the pot, you would always get a dribble, usually next to the cup, sometimes on the floor, but always a dribble. The coffee pot had a lip on it designed to push the pouring coffee right into the cup. The design flaw was such that even that did not work, always a dribble.
I accepted the coffee pot for its obvious flaws. Nothing in life is perfect and we are all flawed, or sinners, in some way. The coffee pot was no different. So, for the last few years every morning when I poured a cup of coffee, I had to clean up the dribble from the canister. Mind you, there was no way around this, the imperfect coffee pot always leaked when pouring into a cup, always.
A few weeks ago I was cleaning the coffee pot and I dropped it on the floor. It shattered and to this day we are finding small bits of glass in the strangest of places. In some ways, right as the canister hit the floor and exploded, I was a little happy. I knew it would mean a new coffee maker, which was going to be a good thing, because I would no longer have to deal with the daily wiping of the mess left behind because of a design flaw.
So I went to a local store that sells coffee makers and I found the cheapest model possible, actually costing less than 10 dollars. I am giving up coffee, so I did not want my investment to be wasted and I figured, all coffee makers are pretty much the same.
I got it home, washed it and ran a test batch through the machine, even testing the canister to see if it leaked when pouring, it did not. Replacing the leaky coffee maker never occurred to me for the last few years, I accepted it was flawed, but it did its job, so who cared?
Then, to upgrade, even though the cost was lower, the value of the new coffee maker is a great deal higher than the broken coffee maker.
Lesson? Don't stick with the flawed one, when it is pretty simple to get a better whatever. I think that's the message, then again, coffee is kind of stupid.
I am not picky about the actual coffee maker, it is all basic when you get down to it. What I have found important are the beans. I grind beans instead of purchasing pre-ground beans. At some point I owned a small restaurant and one of the things I wanted to be perfect was the coffee, so I studied and found out a few tricks, key among them, good beans, ground for the coffee you are making, not in advance.
I brought the new coffee maker home, ran some water through it and brewed up a pot and right then I knew some designer was not a coffee drinker. No matter how you poured the coffee out of the pot, you would always get a dribble, usually next to the cup, sometimes on the floor, but always a dribble. The coffee pot had a lip on it designed to push the pouring coffee right into the cup. The design flaw was such that even that did not work, always a dribble.
I accepted the coffee pot for its obvious flaws. Nothing in life is perfect and we are all flawed, or sinners, in some way. The coffee pot was no different. So, for the last few years every morning when I poured a cup of coffee, I had to clean up the dribble from the canister. Mind you, there was no way around this, the imperfect coffee pot always leaked when pouring into a cup, always.
A few weeks ago I was cleaning the coffee pot and I dropped it on the floor. It shattered and to this day we are finding small bits of glass in the strangest of places. In some ways, right as the canister hit the floor and exploded, I was a little happy. I knew it would mean a new coffee maker, which was going to be a good thing, because I would no longer have to deal with the daily wiping of the mess left behind because of a design flaw.
So I went to a local store that sells coffee makers and I found the cheapest model possible, actually costing less than 10 dollars. I am giving up coffee, so I did not want my investment to be wasted and I figured, all coffee makers are pretty much the same.
I got it home, washed it and ran a test batch through the machine, even testing the canister to see if it leaked when pouring, it did not. Replacing the leaky coffee maker never occurred to me for the last few years, I accepted it was flawed, but it did its job, so who cared?
Then, to upgrade, even though the cost was lower, the value of the new coffee maker is a great deal higher than the broken coffee maker.
Lesson? Don't stick with the flawed one, when it is pretty simple to get a better whatever. I think that's the message, then again, coffee is kind of stupid.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Phone calls from ghosts
Late last night my phone rang. As a parent, we always hate when the phone rings after 11 PM. It was well after 11PM because I had gone to bed way after 11PM.
I answered on instinct, but once I heard the voice, regret filled my near empty head. Sketchy the Addict was calling.
Now, here is the deal with Sketchy, I had made a very firm request, never call again. The thing that I find kind of cute about addicts is they think rules never apply to them. When Sketchy was actively using, the rules certainly did not mean anything, from driving under the influence to unsafe sex, all was OK in the giant empty mind of Sketchy.
Sketchy had claimed to have been clean for a while, but clean only in the way that you can pass a piss test clean, not in the way that healthy people consider others to be clean, and by that I mean honest, healthy, trustworthy and a person with a defined character.
No, Sketchy was and will always be an addict, sometimes high, sometimes not, but always sketchy and always an addict. I learned that Sketchy is always using his drugs of choice, but he has become expert in hiding his abuse of illegal drugs. Sketchy has mastered the art of appearing intelligent, staying in college into his late 30's has given him the authenticity of smarts, but spend more than a few minutes with him and his lies about almost all aspects of his life become crystal clear.
So, the call. As I said, as far as I was concerned, I would never hear from Sketchy the Addict again, mostly because once you know someone is an addict and still a danger, you tend to not want them around. I am sure all addicts are not sketchy, but some are, no matter how clean, sober or delusional they are.
Sketchy will be clean, dirty, high or just living a lie, and it will not matter because he is unable to be healthy.
The call. Well, I answered, a bit tired, a bit sleeping and once I heard the voice, I knew it was Sketchy, but his voice sounded different, slower, more deliberate. Sketchy, like a lot of addicts is very smart, which makes his constant lies almost believable. His voice though sounded much different, deep and slow. He was high. Here is the funny thing, I had only known Sketchy clean and sober. So to hear Sketchy in his natural habitat was kind of interesting.
I reminded Sketchy that he was never supposed to call. He said he thought he may have left something at my house the last time he was here. Oh Sketchy, thanks for reaching out.
See, Sketchy the Addict is funny because in his drug addled mind, all is forgivable, everything is forgotten, let's just start anew. Of course, in the non addict mind, I remember the shambles and danger Sketchy brought down upon my family, which is why everyone of us closed the door, tightly. Sketchy, like many addicts, is disarmingly charming. So, once Sketchy has your ear, chances are he will get what he wants, because he is sinister in his manipulations.
He was just about to enter into his second paragraph when I stopped him and said, quietly, clearly so even high Sketchy could understand, "don't ever call here again."
Then I hung up and turned off my phone.
I slept a deep and restful sleep. See, Sketchy no longer has any ability to influence me in any form, he is a distant speck in my rear view mirror. Oh, sure, somehow we may run into one another, although we travel in different circles, it could happen. I just don't worry about it, to me Sketchy the Addict is history, hearing his slow, high, wasted voice just made me happy. He is on familiar ground, slowly killing himself and he will stumble upon others who find his eloquence and charm something to behold.
I answered on instinct, but once I heard the voice, regret filled my near empty head. Sketchy the Addict was calling.
Now, here is the deal with Sketchy, I had made a very firm request, never call again. The thing that I find kind of cute about addicts is they think rules never apply to them. When Sketchy was actively using, the rules certainly did not mean anything, from driving under the influence to unsafe sex, all was OK in the giant empty mind of Sketchy.
Sketchy had claimed to have been clean for a while, but clean only in the way that you can pass a piss test clean, not in the way that healthy people consider others to be clean, and by that I mean honest, healthy, trustworthy and a person with a defined character.
No, Sketchy was and will always be an addict, sometimes high, sometimes not, but always sketchy and always an addict. I learned that Sketchy is always using his drugs of choice, but he has become expert in hiding his abuse of illegal drugs. Sketchy has mastered the art of appearing intelligent, staying in college into his late 30's has given him the authenticity of smarts, but spend more than a few minutes with him and his lies about almost all aspects of his life become crystal clear.
So, the call. As I said, as far as I was concerned, I would never hear from Sketchy the Addict again, mostly because once you know someone is an addict and still a danger, you tend to not want them around. I am sure all addicts are not sketchy, but some are, no matter how clean, sober or delusional they are.
Sketchy will be clean, dirty, high or just living a lie, and it will not matter because he is unable to be healthy.
The call. Well, I answered, a bit tired, a bit sleeping and once I heard the voice, I knew it was Sketchy, but his voice sounded different, slower, more deliberate. Sketchy, like a lot of addicts is very smart, which makes his constant lies almost believable. His voice though sounded much different, deep and slow. He was high. Here is the funny thing, I had only known Sketchy clean and sober. So to hear Sketchy in his natural habitat was kind of interesting.
I reminded Sketchy that he was never supposed to call. He said he thought he may have left something at my house the last time he was here. Oh Sketchy, thanks for reaching out.
See, Sketchy the Addict is funny because in his drug addled mind, all is forgivable, everything is forgotten, let's just start anew. Of course, in the non addict mind, I remember the shambles and danger Sketchy brought down upon my family, which is why everyone of us closed the door, tightly. Sketchy, like many addicts, is disarmingly charming. So, once Sketchy has your ear, chances are he will get what he wants, because he is sinister in his manipulations.
He was just about to enter into his second paragraph when I stopped him and said, quietly, clearly so even high Sketchy could understand, "don't ever call here again."
Then I hung up and turned off my phone.
I slept a deep and restful sleep. See, Sketchy no longer has any ability to influence me in any form, he is a distant speck in my rear view mirror. Oh, sure, somehow we may run into one another, although we travel in different circles, it could happen. I just don't worry about it, to me Sketchy the Addict is history, hearing his slow, high, wasted voice just made me happy. He is on familiar ground, slowly killing himself and he will stumble upon others who find his eloquence and charm something to behold.
Guest blog
OK, I hear you, or read you, or whatever. Below I am posting one of the guest blogs I did for some dating site. Now, if there is anything more I can do, making you fakitas, teach you some of my famous "moves" or get you the latest phone number for Sketchy the Addict, you just let me know.
Marketing Love
A friend recently called me and asked me the dreaded question, how to wade back into the dating waters. He had been married for about 7 years, maybe more, maybe less, I don’t keep track of things like that.
I told him I would get back to him, because I am often torn between being completely honest and trying to be nice. See, he is a swell guy, a good person, who has a good job, a decent house and seems like his addictions are almost all legal substances, coffee, wine with a meal and the occasional beer.
In my mind, I could answer his question by just saying, you know, get out there, do the dance, the basics that we all have been doing since caveman days. Go to bars, go to clubs, go to baseball games, libraries, take a class. Meet someone in the natural food section of his local supermarket. Simple really, but then if that was the case, he would probably not be asking me for advice.
So I called him back, and said the following, “loose 25 pounds and stop complaining.”
I think he hung up, but later, in an email he claimed it was a dropped call.
People respond differently when I throw a round of honesty at them. My take on his dilemma and many others is this, dating is a competitive process and if you want to meet someone great, you have to shine your greatness up before taking it out for a spin.
See, my friend really is a nice guy, a great catch. But over the course of his long term relationship, he spent more time having swell dinners and a lot less time working out, riding a bike, walking around the park and generally wondering if his weight gain could be hazardous to his health.
I know, I know, it’s so shallow the judge a book by its cover. Then again, I am often in airports and looking for something to read, I almost always judge the books by their covers. The same is true in the dating world. If you really want to attract a beautiful bird, you might want to make sure you have the elements that attract a birds attention. It is so hard to amplify your personality, show off your amazing intellect or somehow show people that you are great in bed, all the while walking down the street, grabbing a beer at a bar, I could go on.
When I was able to reconnect with my friend with DCS – drop call syndrome, I told him what I am telling you. It is a fun filled world out there, but so many of us, and yes, I do include my shallow self in this assessment, rely on physical attraction long before we wonder about things like “I wonder if this person speaks my language” or “does this person have a job?”
I explained that while I believed he was a good friend and that I thought anyone who dated him would certainly agree, getting someone to date him would take work.
I know it is shallow, but on many levels, we end up marketing ourselves in the dating world much like companies market new products. It is not enough to just build a better mousetrap, companies have to find creative ways to explain why you need a better mousetrap. In dating land we dress better, clean our homes, shower and clean up. My advice to my friend was, think of dating as you would any sort of first time meeting, say, a job interview. You have one time to set the table, to impress and also show that beneath the clothes and hair and clean shaved skin, there is a real person who experiences joy and heartbreak, who loves and feels emotions, who can converse on a wide range of subjects with intelligence and humor, but before you can get to your depth, you have to get past the shallow part, the animalistic attraction.
Marketing Love
A friend recently called me and asked me the dreaded question, how to wade back into the dating waters. He had been married for about 7 years, maybe more, maybe less, I don’t keep track of things like that.
I told him I would get back to him, because I am often torn between being completely honest and trying to be nice. See, he is a swell guy, a good person, who has a good job, a decent house and seems like his addictions are almost all legal substances, coffee, wine with a meal and the occasional beer.
In my mind, I could answer his question by just saying, you know, get out there, do the dance, the basics that we all have been doing since caveman days. Go to bars, go to clubs, go to baseball games, libraries, take a class. Meet someone in the natural food section of his local supermarket. Simple really, but then if that was the case, he would probably not be asking me for advice.
So I called him back, and said the following, “loose 25 pounds and stop complaining.”
I think he hung up, but later, in an email he claimed it was a dropped call.
People respond differently when I throw a round of honesty at them. My take on his dilemma and many others is this, dating is a competitive process and if you want to meet someone great, you have to shine your greatness up before taking it out for a spin.
See, my friend really is a nice guy, a great catch. But over the course of his long term relationship, he spent more time having swell dinners and a lot less time working out, riding a bike, walking around the park and generally wondering if his weight gain could be hazardous to his health.
I know, I know, it’s so shallow the judge a book by its cover. Then again, I am often in airports and looking for something to read, I almost always judge the books by their covers. The same is true in the dating world. If you really want to attract a beautiful bird, you might want to make sure you have the elements that attract a birds attention. It is so hard to amplify your personality, show off your amazing intellect or somehow show people that you are great in bed, all the while walking down the street, grabbing a beer at a bar, I could go on.
When I was able to reconnect with my friend with DCS – drop call syndrome, I told him what I am telling you. It is a fun filled world out there, but so many of us, and yes, I do include my shallow self in this assessment, rely on physical attraction long before we wonder about things like “I wonder if this person speaks my language” or “does this person have a job?”
I explained that while I believed he was a good friend and that I thought anyone who dated him would certainly agree, getting someone to date him would take work.
I know it is shallow, but on many levels, we end up marketing ourselves in the dating world much like companies market new products. It is not enough to just build a better mousetrap, companies have to find creative ways to explain why you need a better mousetrap. In dating land we dress better, clean our homes, shower and clean up. My advice to my friend was, think of dating as you would any sort of first time meeting, say, a job interview. You have one time to set the table, to impress and also show that beneath the clothes and hair and clean shaved skin, there is a real person who experiences joy and heartbreak, who loves and feels emotions, who can converse on a wide range of subjects with intelligence and humor, but before you can get to your depth, you have to get past the shallow part, the animalistic attraction.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Comments
I was just rumbling around the internets, looking under rocks and stuff, when I came across a guest blog I wrote for an international dating site or something. I won't repost the original posting, although judging from the amount of letters I keep getting from people breaking up and dating down, it might be about time to post it, but instead I will post some of the comments. Why? Because they make me laugh.
"I would like to thanks a ton for the efforts you have made in writing this blog post. I am hoping the same best work from you in the future as well. I loved your style I will join for your feed please keep posting! My kind regards, Hye."
"Brilliant, thanks, I will visit again soon."
"I know what you mean, its hard to find good help these days. People now days just don’t have the work ethic they used to have. I mean consider whoever wrote this post, they must have been working hard to write that good and it took a good bit of their time I am sure. I work with people who couldn’t write like this if they tried, and getting them to try is hard enough as it is."
"Very nice post. I’ve really enjoyed visiting your site posts. Whatever the case I’ll be subscribing to your feed and i also hope you write again soon! Thanks, I’ll attempt to check back more often. Happy new year!"
"valuable post…
You got a really useful blog I have been here reading for about half an hour. I am a newbie and your post is valuable for me…."
"I would like to thanks a ton for the efforts you have made in writing this blog post. I am hoping the same best work from you in the future as well. I loved your style I will join for your feed please keep posting! My kind regards, Hye."
"Brilliant, thanks, I will visit again soon."
"I know what you mean, its hard to find good help these days. People now days just don’t have the work ethic they used to have. I mean consider whoever wrote this post, they must have been working hard to write that good and it took a good bit of their time I am sure. I work with people who couldn’t write like this if they tried, and getting them to try is hard enough as it is."
"Very nice post. I’ve really enjoyed visiting your site posts. Whatever the case I’ll be subscribing to your feed and i also hope you write again soon! Thanks, I’ll attempt to check back more often. Happy new year!"
"valuable post…
You got a really useful blog I have been here reading for about half an hour. I am a newbie and your post is valuable for me…."
Friends and drugs
I was recently holding a box of Temodar. First off, what's with the name companies choose for their products?
Anyway, I was reading the side effects associated with Temodar and I set the box down and just looked out a window. A couple of things to understand, it has been remarkably beautiful around here this week. It is spring like warm, the snow is gone and people just seem, well, nicer. So, looking out the window after reading jaw dropping side effects sure can be heartening.
I was once in a play in college where I was required to enter the stage carrying a large suitcase. Now, the thing about acting is that nothing really is what it seems, so it took a great deal of acting for me to look like the suitcase was filled with my valuables and clothes, even though it was completely empty. Acting was the part where I had a look on my face like this suitcase was going to break my back, when in fact, it was light as an empty suitcase.
This morning I was leaving an office carrying two fairly large boxes of medications that filled the boxes, but because of what they were, the boxes were as light as, say, an empty suitcase.
As I plodded through the parking lot, which on a sunny and warm morning was relatively empty, I kept thinking that someone should offer to help, I mean for all the world to see I was carrying two fairly large boxes, even though they did not weight very much. In fact, at one point I almost tripped and the box on top fell to the ground much like a feature might fall from a bird in flight. No one noticed.
Anyway, I was reading the side effects associated with Temodar and I set the box down and just looked out a window. A couple of things to understand, it has been remarkably beautiful around here this week. It is spring like warm, the snow is gone and people just seem, well, nicer. So, looking out the window after reading jaw dropping side effects sure can be heartening.
I was once in a play in college where I was required to enter the stage carrying a large suitcase. Now, the thing about acting is that nothing really is what it seems, so it took a great deal of acting for me to look like the suitcase was filled with my valuables and clothes, even though it was completely empty. Acting was the part where I had a look on my face like this suitcase was going to break my back, when in fact, it was light as an empty suitcase.
This morning I was leaving an office carrying two fairly large boxes of medications that filled the boxes, but because of what they were, the boxes were as light as, say, an empty suitcase.
As I plodded through the parking lot, which on a sunny and warm morning was relatively empty, I kept thinking that someone should offer to help, I mean for all the world to see I was carrying two fairly large boxes, even though they did not weight very much. In fact, at one point I almost tripped and the box on top fell to the ground much like a feature might fall from a bird in flight. No one noticed.
My name is Elvis
The woman at the front reception area told us that it would be about 10 minutes before we could get a table, such is the problem with hip and trendy restaurants. First dates are stressful enough, there may be nothing worse than the 10-15 minute wait for a table. In my experience, those ten minutes can lead to an end of a date faster than, say, getting hit by a car.
The chirpy little person said she would get us once the table is ready and we could grab a drink in the bar while we wait. All that was fine, then she said something to the effect that if I gave her my name, she would come find me. "Elvis, my name is Elvis," I said.
Saying those five words can ruin or make an evening. My date looked at me like I may be insane, breaking out the Elvis thing on a first date almost always dooms it. It is just so hard to explain. My date saddled up to me and said, "Your dad a fan of the king?"
So, at least the date was going to be OK.
The Elvis story.
A long time ago I was just tired of being paged as Matt. I like my name, but come on, if we are going to make some 18 year old girl walk through a crowded bar saying something, we might as well make it entertaining. I tried out a few names, for a while when someone would ask for a name I would just say "Jesus" and smile.
So we end up back in the bar, grab a small table and order a couple glasses of wine. "So, tell me about Elvis."
I explain that I was born a woman, and my father always wanted a boy, and if he had a boy, he would have named him Elvis because my father grew up living two houses down from poor stupid little boy Elvis, who grew up to be the best entertainer in the history of the world, or something. The date looked at me like I really might be insane. No, I was not born with female parts. Hah, it was a joke then, yes? Of course. So why Elvis? Jesus caused too many issues. Although I have been known to quote obscure bible references (oranges are evil, according to the bible) I am not expert on religion. You get paged as Jesus and you can bet someone will stop you and ask a question. Elvis on the other hand, men look at you as if you are one lucky son of a bitch and women, honestly this part is true, women check you out head to toe.
Wine gone and magically, the sprite from the reception area is standing next to our table, my date and I grab one anothers hands, she says, "Evis, your table for two is ready."
The chirpy little person said she would get us once the table is ready and we could grab a drink in the bar while we wait. All that was fine, then she said something to the effect that if I gave her my name, she would come find me. "Elvis, my name is Elvis," I said.
Saying those five words can ruin or make an evening. My date looked at me like I may be insane, breaking out the Elvis thing on a first date almost always dooms it. It is just so hard to explain. My date saddled up to me and said, "Your dad a fan of the king?"
So, at least the date was going to be OK.
The Elvis story.
A long time ago I was just tired of being paged as Matt. I like my name, but come on, if we are going to make some 18 year old girl walk through a crowded bar saying something, we might as well make it entertaining. I tried out a few names, for a while when someone would ask for a name I would just say "Jesus" and smile.
So we end up back in the bar, grab a small table and order a couple glasses of wine. "So, tell me about Elvis."
I explain that I was born a woman, and my father always wanted a boy, and if he had a boy, he would have named him Elvis because my father grew up living two houses down from poor stupid little boy Elvis, who grew up to be the best entertainer in the history of the world, or something. The date looked at me like I really might be insane. No, I was not born with female parts. Hah, it was a joke then, yes? Of course. So why Elvis? Jesus caused too many issues. Although I have been known to quote obscure bible references (oranges are evil, according to the bible) I am not expert on religion. You get paged as Jesus and you can bet someone will stop you and ask a question. Elvis on the other hand, men look at you as if you are one lucky son of a bitch and women, honestly this part is true, women check you out head to toe.
Wine gone and magically, the sprite from the reception area is standing next to our table, my date and I grab one anothers hands, she says, "Evis, your table for two is ready."
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Prayer flags
Something I learned a long time ago, that seems to be appropriate from time to time, is embrace the things that matter right now, because we have no real guarantee on tomorrow.
Which brings me to Tibetan Prayer Flags.
Many years ago a woman I knew with a bit of a coke problem was getting ready to seek help. So, what I did then was line her driveway with prayer flags, not because of my Buddhist upbringing, or because I am a Buddhist (I am not) or that I particularly believed that prayer flags could do anything more than indicate a soft breeze. No, I wanted her to be able to see something beautiful and possibly spiritual and go from there.
This year is turning out to be one of the best of my life. January was certainly a good month, both in accomplishments, goals met and planning for a long range future. Sure, like every month in history, there were personal road blocks, but because this is looking to be such a great year, those road blocks were really nothing. Now, this month has been a little stranger, mostly because it became obvious that a friend with addiction problems needed to be released from friendship. Oh well, that too, which a tiny bit dramatic, is done and gone.
So why the flags?
More importantly, if you go to Amazon.Com and look for Tibetan Prayer Flags, you get a package of them, I think 3, plus for a penny more, you get an actual Tibetan flag. Now, how many times in life is there an add on for a penny? Really, and a beautiful flag for a penny, seems hard to pass by.
So, if I could just use your patience for a second, close your eyes, think about beautiful Buddhist pray flags and say a quiet little prayer all to yourself. To me, it really doesn't matter what they prayer is, although I do have some suggestions if you are interested. Most importantly is to remember that the only time we are guaranteed is this moment and it is fleeting.
Which brings me to Tibetan Prayer Flags.
Many years ago a woman I knew with a bit of a coke problem was getting ready to seek help. So, what I did then was line her driveway with prayer flags, not because of my Buddhist upbringing, or because I am a Buddhist (I am not) or that I particularly believed that prayer flags could do anything more than indicate a soft breeze. No, I wanted her to be able to see something beautiful and possibly spiritual and go from there.
This year is turning out to be one of the best of my life. January was certainly a good month, both in accomplishments, goals met and planning for a long range future. Sure, like every month in history, there were personal road blocks, but because this is looking to be such a great year, those road blocks were really nothing. Now, this month has been a little stranger, mostly because it became obvious that a friend with addiction problems needed to be released from friendship. Oh well, that too, which a tiny bit dramatic, is done and gone.
So why the flags?
More importantly, if you go to Amazon.Com and look for Tibetan Prayer Flags, you get a package of them, I think 3, plus for a penny more, you get an actual Tibetan flag. Now, how many times in life is there an add on for a penny? Really, and a beautiful flag for a penny, seems hard to pass by.
So, if I could just use your patience for a second, close your eyes, think about beautiful Buddhist pray flags and say a quiet little prayer all to yourself. To me, it really doesn't matter what they prayer is, although I do have some suggestions if you are interested. Most importantly is to remember that the only time we are guaranteed is this moment and it is fleeting.
Good times
"My husband is in the Army and stationed in Afghanistan. We can Skype, but not very often. We have been married 3 years. We are both in our early 20s. During his last leave we were together for a week. I love him very much and I think he loves me. I think I am pregnant and I can not be sure it is his. Any advice?"
This is an unedited letter I got last week.
I did not email back and I have been tempted to not answer because I am just so lost.
First, I never understand anyone getting married in the 20's. Ever. Teens should never be allowed to get married and people in their 20's should have to pass some sort of mental and physical exam before being allowed to marry.
That said, I am a big believer in following through with promises. So, letter writer, you claim to be married, and I am guessing that at some point in your ceremony you made some sort of vow, which probably had some verbiage referring to be loyal, or something.
My guess is the reason your writing is to figure out who to tell the truth to. First, partners in all forms deserve honesty, all the time. In every single relationship I have ever been involved in I was tempted to have sex with someone other than my partner. When I was younger, 20's being what I consider to be younger, I could never pull off the whole monogamy thing. Even when I pretended to be monogamous, I was not.
This is why I did not get married in my 20's. This is why you should not have married either.
Someone deserves a lot better person that you. I am guessing it is your husband, mostly because he is in a war zone, facing all sorts of threats and you can not be bothered to honor a commitment that I am guessing your husband feels entitled to, since he is in a foreign land where he is not really welcome. So, what do you do knowing this? Oh, heck, you screw someone back home.
If that was part of your agreement with your husband, you know, you get an itch, you find someone to scratch it, then more power to you, but the tone of your email seems to suggest that you do not have such an arrangement.
You do not mention how pregnant you are.
My advice, go ahead and get a divorce.
Oh, and grow up. First, stop having unprotected sex until you are mature enough to be a mother. Second, don't get married to someone who will not be around to scratch your itch, or have an agreement that you and he can do whomever you feel like. Or something like that. But mostly, just stop.
I have a terrible headache and your immaturity and dishonesty to your relationship is not making me feel better.
This is an unedited letter I got last week.
I did not email back and I have been tempted to not answer because I am just so lost.
First, I never understand anyone getting married in the 20's. Ever. Teens should never be allowed to get married and people in their 20's should have to pass some sort of mental and physical exam before being allowed to marry.
That said, I am a big believer in following through with promises. So, letter writer, you claim to be married, and I am guessing that at some point in your ceremony you made some sort of vow, which probably had some verbiage referring to be loyal, or something.
My guess is the reason your writing is to figure out who to tell the truth to. First, partners in all forms deserve honesty, all the time. In every single relationship I have ever been involved in I was tempted to have sex with someone other than my partner. When I was younger, 20's being what I consider to be younger, I could never pull off the whole monogamy thing. Even when I pretended to be monogamous, I was not.
This is why I did not get married in my 20's. This is why you should not have married either.
Someone deserves a lot better person that you. I am guessing it is your husband, mostly because he is in a war zone, facing all sorts of threats and you can not be bothered to honor a commitment that I am guessing your husband feels entitled to, since he is in a foreign land where he is not really welcome. So, what do you do knowing this? Oh, heck, you screw someone back home.
If that was part of your agreement with your husband, you know, you get an itch, you find someone to scratch it, then more power to you, but the tone of your email seems to suggest that you do not have such an arrangement.
You do not mention how pregnant you are.
My advice, go ahead and get a divorce.
Oh, and grow up. First, stop having unprotected sex until you are mature enough to be a mother. Second, don't get married to someone who will not be around to scratch your itch, or have an agreement that you and he can do whomever you feel like. Or something like that. But mostly, just stop.
I have a terrible headache and your immaturity and dishonesty to your relationship is not making me feel better.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Light it up
A letter:
"Last summer I broke up with my boyfriend (I'm gay) mostly because I felt like he was not really into me, which translated into me not being into him. So, I took some time off the whole dating thing and I am now feeling frisky. My issue, that only you can solve is this, I like to smoke some weed, and my last boyfriend was totally an anti-drug and for the entire relationship I had to sneak a smoke. Here's the deal, I love to be a little high when I am sexing it up. I can't hide anymore. Now, I do not want to date wake n bake stoners, I just need a hot guy who does not have issues with a little smoke before, well, bed. Suggest?"
Dude.
I am so high right now, I lost what I was gonna say.
OK, simple answer is be honest and up front. However it is you gays meet one another, bars, clubs, online, heck like anyone else meets anyone I guess. So, let's say you post a profile on some dating site, the gay version of Match or something, and somewhere on there, mention you like a little sheeba, or whatever it is you kids call MaryJane.
The problem with first dates and meeting new people is we all put on our best clothes, our best attitude and pretend we have no baggage, because quite honestly, no one wants to date someone wearing funky dirty clothes, smelling like mold and talking endlessly about the loser they recently broke up with.
Plus, those of us across the table on a first date are paying attention and looking for those obnoxious red flags. For me, you saying you like a little bud not and then would not be a deal breaker, in fact for me, someone saying they are super clean and super sober would lead me to jump up, run like hell and never look back, but that's just me.
Here is my advice. Be honest. You like to smoke before sex, put that in a profile, put that on your t-shirt put that into the conversation while dating. The best part, your honesty will scare off the people with hang ups and issues. It will also attract someone who will either join you in a pre-sex smoke, or not care that you do.
"Last summer I broke up with my boyfriend (I'm gay) mostly because I felt like he was not really into me, which translated into me not being into him. So, I took some time off the whole dating thing and I am now feeling frisky. My issue, that only you can solve is this, I like to smoke some weed, and my last boyfriend was totally an anti-drug and for the entire relationship I had to sneak a smoke. Here's the deal, I love to be a little high when I am sexing it up. I can't hide anymore. Now, I do not want to date wake n bake stoners, I just need a hot guy who does not have issues with a little smoke before, well, bed. Suggest?"
Dude.
I am so high right now, I lost what I was gonna say.
OK, simple answer is be honest and up front. However it is you gays meet one another, bars, clubs, online, heck like anyone else meets anyone I guess. So, let's say you post a profile on some dating site, the gay version of Match or something, and somewhere on there, mention you like a little sheeba, or whatever it is you kids call MaryJane.
The problem with first dates and meeting new people is we all put on our best clothes, our best attitude and pretend we have no baggage, because quite honestly, no one wants to date someone wearing funky dirty clothes, smelling like mold and talking endlessly about the loser they recently broke up with.
Plus, those of us across the table on a first date are paying attention and looking for those obnoxious red flags. For me, you saying you like a little bud not and then would not be a deal breaker, in fact for me, someone saying they are super clean and super sober would lead me to jump up, run like hell and never look back, but that's just me.
Here is my advice. Be honest. You like to smoke before sex, put that in a profile, put that on your t-shirt put that into the conversation while dating. The best part, your honesty will scare off the people with hang ups and issues. It will also attract someone who will either join you in a pre-sex smoke, or not care that you do.
Stocks
A couple of months ago I was talked into opening an online stock trading account. Actually this is a return of sorts, because many years ago, when I was surrounded by babies and life seemed a lot less complex, I had a prospering trading account, because back in those days, not only was everyone trading stocks, we were all really good at it.
Or so we thought.
See, when the market is climbing to new heights every day and there are stocks that double almost every day, you start to believe that this whole stock trading game is simple.
I do believe that the wisest advice I ever got was from a fellow stay at home father who had been a broker for some time. He and I would be standing in a park, watching our girls run around and play and we would offer stock tips. One day, I told him he must be super wealthy because of all the sage advice he had given me. Then he said, "there are three types of animals that play with stocks, bears, bulls and pigs. The pigs always get slaughtered by both the bears and bulls."
Pigs are the people, like me, who thought that just because a company had a cute name, Widgets.com, we could make a killing. No research, no market understanding or even a glance at a companies finances. Those things were old school. Online traders just needed a hunch. Or a friend with some picks.
That's how I came to know the mystery Israeli. My friend Bill, who has been leading me into danger and fun for over 30 years, introduced me to the Mystery Israeli. He sat in a coffee shop on the lower east side of Manhattan back when I was an active trader. This would be years ago. I believe it was about the time the president was receiving oral pleasure in the white house.
The Mystery Israeli sipped a beverage and looked me over. I sat, we talked about some of the high tech companies I was in love with, he threw me some stock symbols and said we should meet again. We never did. We stay in touch via email and Bill.
This morning I got an email. The Mystery Israeli wanted to know how much money I had in my online trading account. I emailed back, asking how he knew I was "back in the game?" His response? "That is neither here nor there, do you have a stock for me, because I have a present for you."
I told him I liked Cisco, because of late it has been dropping, but the fundamentals remain strong. He wrote back, with 3 stock symbols for a companies he likes. All were low, but for the last few weeks, they had been flat, at a low level. I had seen this before from him. His advice has always been spot the good stock at its low point and begin to buy. The three he showed me were all in that boat.
The Mystery Israeli is a trader. He does not buy and hold, he does not love stocks or companies, he uses them to make more money. Once they bring him money, he sells them. Sometimes the stocks he has made a profit on continue to grow and he could have made a lot more money, sometimes they fall. Such is the market.
I logged onto my new trading account and bought some shares. It will be interesting to see how the stocks do. This much I know for sure, in less that a week I am down 10 percent. "Not bad," said the Mystery Israeli, "not a bad start at all..."
Or so we thought.
See, when the market is climbing to new heights every day and there are stocks that double almost every day, you start to believe that this whole stock trading game is simple.
I do believe that the wisest advice I ever got was from a fellow stay at home father who had been a broker for some time. He and I would be standing in a park, watching our girls run around and play and we would offer stock tips. One day, I told him he must be super wealthy because of all the sage advice he had given me. Then he said, "there are three types of animals that play with stocks, bears, bulls and pigs. The pigs always get slaughtered by both the bears and bulls."
Pigs are the people, like me, who thought that just because a company had a cute name, Widgets.com, we could make a killing. No research, no market understanding or even a glance at a companies finances. Those things were old school. Online traders just needed a hunch. Or a friend with some picks.
That's how I came to know the mystery Israeli. My friend Bill, who has been leading me into danger and fun for over 30 years, introduced me to the Mystery Israeli. He sat in a coffee shop on the lower east side of Manhattan back when I was an active trader. This would be years ago. I believe it was about the time the president was receiving oral pleasure in the white house.
The Mystery Israeli sipped a beverage and looked me over. I sat, we talked about some of the high tech companies I was in love with, he threw me some stock symbols and said we should meet again. We never did. We stay in touch via email and Bill.
This morning I got an email. The Mystery Israeli wanted to know how much money I had in my online trading account. I emailed back, asking how he knew I was "back in the game?" His response? "That is neither here nor there, do you have a stock for me, because I have a present for you."
I told him I liked Cisco, because of late it has been dropping, but the fundamentals remain strong. He wrote back, with 3 stock symbols for a companies he likes. All were low, but for the last few weeks, they had been flat, at a low level. I had seen this before from him. His advice has always been spot the good stock at its low point and begin to buy. The three he showed me were all in that boat.
The Mystery Israeli is a trader. He does not buy and hold, he does not love stocks or companies, he uses them to make more money. Once they bring him money, he sells them. Sometimes the stocks he has made a profit on continue to grow and he could have made a lot more money, sometimes they fall. Such is the market.
I logged onto my new trading account and bought some shares. It will be interesting to see how the stocks do. This much I know for sure, in less that a week I am down 10 percent. "Not bad," said the Mystery Israeli, "not a bad start at all..."
Winning
I was walking through our buildings lobby this afternoon, when I saw one of those scratch off lottery cards laying on the floor.
As I often do, I picked it up and continued walking. When I entered my office a co-worker saw the card and asked if it was a winner. I had no idea and I told her so. So I sat down and looked at it. On the top row were a series of 5 numbers, already scratched off. Then there were rows of other numbers and if you matched any of the five, you won.
So, I looked at the 5 winning numbers and checked all the numbers below, and there was no winner. Now, with this card, you could win with a matching number and if you scratched off a box at the end of each row, you could actually win a multiplier for the winning number. The multiplier numbers had not been scratched, so I did those just to see if there was a big winner. On row 3 there was a "win 5 times" your winning amount. Gosh, I thought, that would have been nice. Then I looked at that particular row again and noticed a 25 as one of the numbers. I glanced up and on the top row of winning match numbers, there was a 25.
Weird. The cards buyer had missed the winning number and so had I. I scratched the spot below the 25, that is how you find out how much you win. Now, remember, since I scratched the box at the end of the row, I already knew that no matter what I won, I would get 5 times that amount, and keep in mind, I found this card.
I scratched and there it was, one million dollars. I almost fainted.
That would be 5 million American dollars.
I studied the card just to make sure. Yes, 25 on the top row, 25 on the row I was looking at, in a row with a special win 5 times your winning amount. I looked at the one million dollar prize and noticed that it was not exactly the one under the 25, it was the one next to the one under the 25. So, I did not win 5 million dollars on a card I found on the floor.
I scratched the spot under the 25. Twenty dollars. So, let's do some math, 20 dollars times 5 equals 100. So, by walking thru the lobby and seeing a card, I won 100 dollars. Not nearly 5 million, but 100 dollars more than I started with.
In my mind I am going to focus on the 5 million and what that would have meant, in the meantime, I think I have a date tonight with a hotty and she will know exactly how to spend that money.
As I often do, I picked it up and continued walking. When I entered my office a co-worker saw the card and asked if it was a winner. I had no idea and I told her so. So I sat down and looked at it. On the top row were a series of 5 numbers, already scratched off. Then there were rows of other numbers and if you matched any of the five, you won.
So, I looked at the 5 winning numbers and checked all the numbers below, and there was no winner. Now, with this card, you could win with a matching number and if you scratched off a box at the end of each row, you could actually win a multiplier for the winning number. The multiplier numbers had not been scratched, so I did those just to see if there was a big winner. On row 3 there was a "win 5 times" your winning amount. Gosh, I thought, that would have been nice. Then I looked at that particular row again and noticed a 25 as one of the numbers. I glanced up and on the top row of winning match numbers, there was a 25.
Weird. The cards buyer had missed the winning number and so had I. I scratched the spot below the 25, that is how you find out how much you win. Now, remember, since I scratched the box at the end of the row, I already knew that no matter what I won, I would get 5 times that amount, and keep in mind, I found this card.
I scratched and there it was, one million dollars. I almost fainted.
That would be 5 million American dollars.
I studied the card just to make sure. Yes, 25 on the top row, 25 on the row I was looking at, in a row with a special win 5 times your winning amount. I looked at the one million dollar prize and noticed that it was not exactly the one under the 25, it was the one next to the one under the 25. So, I did not win 5 million dollars on a card I found on the floor.
I scratched the spot under the 25. Twenty dollars. So, let's do some math, 20 dollars times 5 equals 100. So, by walking thru the lobby and seeing a card, I won 100 dollars. Not nearly 5 million, but 100 dollars more than I started with.
In my mind I am going to focus on the 5 million and what that would have meant, in the meantime, I think I have a date tonight with a hotty and she will know exactly how to spend that money.
The truth
"Can I ask you a question?"
This from an email received last week.
"Are the letters you post on your blog for real?"
Is yours?
"I can see you edit some, but some are so angry and bitter, upsetting and sad, I have to wonder if you are getting this many letters, or just using one as a jumping off point for another agenda."
Wow. OK, first, I have been getting letters from blog visitors for a while. Only recently did I start publishing some on this site, with my brilliant insight attached. Do I edit some? Yes, because some are either so enraged or the clues to who might be writing are so obvious, I change a couple things around to hide identities. That, and the fact that some are incredibly long winded and they need shortening.
Do I have an agenda? Probably, but when it comes to answering letters, I just kind of write what is my honest reaction.
"Why make up names for people? Tiny D? Sketchy the Addict? Who are these people and why the fake names?"
OK, so if I put Joe instead of Stony the pot smoking stock broker, would you have a better idea who Joe is? (Joe is not his real name, smoking pot and trading stocks is real). The idea of finding a nickname for some people I either know or meet, I just figured it gives them color. Plus, for obvious reasons, I am not about to use someones real name if I am trying to hide their identity.
"Did you used to live in New York? Have we ever been lovers."
Yes and no.
Good day.
This from an email received last week.
"Are the letters you post on your blog for real?"
Is yours?
"I can see you edit some, but some are so angry and bitter, upsetting and sad, I have to wonder if you are getting this many letters, or just using one as a jumping off point for another agenda."
Wow. OK, first, I have been getting letters from blog visitors for a while. Only recently did I start publishing some on this site, with my brilliant insight attached. Do I edit some? Yes, because some are either so enraged or the clues to who might be writing are so obvious, I change a couple things around to hide identities. That, and the fact that some are incredibly long winded and they need shortening.
Do I have an agenda? Probably, but when it comes to answering letters, I just kind of write what is my honest reaction.
"Why make up names for people? Tiny D? Sketchy the Addict? Who are these people and why the fake names?"
OK, so if I put Joe instead of Stony the pot smoking stock broker, would you have a better idea who Joe is? (Joe is not his real name, smoking pot and trading stocks is real). The idea of finding a nickname for some people I either know or meet, I just figured it gives them color. Plus, for obvious reasons, I am not about to use someones real name if I am trying to hide their identity.
"Did you used to live in New York? Have we ever been lovers."
Yes and no.
Good day.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Dear Fiat
To whom....
I love your Fiat 500 and I will write about it every day for the next million years if you would be kind enough to send it to me to test drive.
Thank you in advance.
Nonsense and money and UPS
OK, I read some of the complaints in the comments and I get some in email and I will answer.
First though, last week Sketchy the Addict sent a package to my house, but I was not there to not sign for it. I checked online and UPS was nice enough to inform me that the package had come from Sketchy the Addict. The UPS website allows people to send a package back without ever seeing a driver. We did that. This morning I got an email from UPS, Sketchy the Addict got the package back. What a wonderful Valentines Gift, not for Sketchy the Addict, who deserves a bag of poo, no for my family. See, Sketchy never was the person he pretended to be. Sketchy was and always will be an accomplished actor in some sort of Pinter absurdist drama. Either way, Sketchy, whatever was in the package, keep it. It is all you will get from us.
Now, about those obnoxious advertisements showing up on the site. First, there has been a bit of a trade off. I know we are getting more people reading this blog, I can tell not only from the number of emails I keep getting, but also because I can track the numbers. So, thank you for reading this blog and stop complaining.
See, just last week I was asked, again-I might add, if I might promote this crappy website that sells crappy stuff to presumably crappy people. I warned the readers, who started sending me emails begging me not to subject them to crappy stuff that I do not create. Then the crappy website sent me an email offering just a tiny bit of cash for the honor of appearing on this website. I wrote back and told them there were a couple of zeros missing from their offer. This sort of dialog may have gone on for a while, but I would not know, I blocked them from emailing me, something they now have in common with Sketchy the Addict.
So, as a way to get a little bit of money coming in, I answered a request from Google to put advertisements on these pages. The gods of google are always finding new ways for them to make money and for every dollar they turn into profit, I get something like negative 12 cents. So we all win.
Another email person asked if I would be answering any more relationship questions. The short answer is yes. The longer answer is possibly. I have a bunch of emails from people in pain, ending this, starting that, seeking cures for something, wishing the itching would stop (and these are just recent conquests of Sketchy the Addict, joking, no all).
So, yes, there is a backlog and feel free to email anything you might want to add to this blog. As you can see, it is a work in progress, although I have been writing these damn things for almost 3 years now. I was reviewing my old website last night and found some interesting posts about Bozo the overweight clown, which I may repost. There was even one about the younger Sketchy the Addict, long before I realize Sketchy was indeed sketchy.
So, get out there and spend money on fake Valentines gifts, and do me a favor, if your relationship hits the chocolate highway in the next day or two, write me an email, because my guess is Valentines Day is as responsible for ending relationships as it is for procreation. Just a guess.
First though, last week Sketchy the Addict sent a package to my house, but I was not there to not sign for it. I checked online and UPS was nice enough to inform me that the package had come from Sketchy the Addict. The UPS website allows people to send a package back without ever seeing a driver. We did that. This morning I got an email from UPS, Sketchy the Addict got the package back. What a wonderful Valentines Gift, not for Sketchy the Addict, who deserves a bag of poo, no for my family. See, Sketchy never was the person he pretended to be. Sketchy was and always will be an accomplished actor in some sort of Pinter absurdist drama. Either way, Sketchy, whatever was in the package, keep it. It is all you will get from us.
Now, about those obnoxious advertisements showing up on the site. First, there has been a bit of a trade off. I know we are getting more people reading this blog, I can tell not only from the number of emails I keep getting, but also because I can track the numbers. So, thank you for reading this blog and stop complaining.
See, just last week I was asked, again-I might add, if I might promote this crappy website that sells crappy stuff to presumably crappy people. I warned the readers, who started sending me emails begging me not to subject them to crappy stuff that I do not create. Then the crappy website sent me an email offering just a tiny bit of cash for the honor of appearing on this website. I wrote back and told them there were a couple of zeros missing from their offer. This sort of dialog may have gone on for a while, but I would not know, I blocked them from emailing me, something they now have in common with Sketchy the Addict.
So, as a way to get a little bit of money coming in, I answered a request from Google to put advertisements on these pages. The gods of google are always finding new ways for them to make money and for every dollar they turn into profit, I get something like negative 12 cents. So we all win.
Another email person asked if I would be answering any more relationship questions. The short answer is yes. The longer answer is possibly. I have a bunch of emails from people in pain, ending this, starting that, seeking cures for something, wishing the itching would stop (and these are just recent conquests of Sketchy the Addict, joking, no all).
So, yes, there is a backlog and feel free to email anything you might want to add to this blog. As you can see, it is a work in progress, although I have been writing these damn things for almost 3 years now. I was reviewing my old website last night and found some interesting posts about Bozo the overweight clown, which I may repost. There was even one about the younger Sketchy the Addict, long before I realize Sketchy was indeed sketchy.
So, get out there and spend money on fake Valentines gifts, and do me a favor, if your relationship hits the chocolate highway in the next day or two, write me an email, because my guess is Valentines Day is as responsible for ending relationships as it is for procreation. Just a guess.
A quick Grammy recap
This is all you need to know about last nights Grammy awards. Whatever the reporter has been having, I'd like 17 gallons delivered to my house, pronto.
Pot is bad for sex
Here is an important study for all you pot smokers out there. I have done a little research into this myself. First, drunks make lousy lovers. Second, pot smokers are good in the bed and they always get food after and from my own research, clean and sober means fast and boring.
Now the study:
Marijuana users sometimes report that pot enhances their desire for sex. But a new review of research on marijuana and sexual health suggests that male smokers could be courting sexual dysfunction.
Research on the topic is contradictory and few studies are high-quality, said study researcher Rany Shamloul, a physician with appointments at the University of Ottawa and Queen's University in Canada as well as the University of Cairo. But recent research – including the finding that the penis contains receptors for marijuana's active ingredient – suggests that young men may want to think about long-term effects before rolling a joint, Shamloul told LiveScience.
"It's a strong message to our younger generations and younger men," Shamloul said.
Shamloul reported his findings online Jan. 26 in the Journal of Sexual Medicine.
Sex and drugs
Scientists first began to study marijuana and sex in the 1970s. Some researchers found that cannabis seemed to have the effect of a love drug; in one 1982 study published in the Journal of Psychoactive Drugs, 75 percent of male pot smokers said the drug enhanced their sex lives. Meanwhile, another study published in the same journal the same year found that erectile dysfunction was twice as common in marijuana users – not such good news for lit lotharios. Other research suggests a dose effect, in which small amounts of marijuana have little impact on sexual dysfunction, but more marijuana makes for fewer erections.
But problems are rife with this research, Shamloul said, because none of the studies used validated measurement techniques when surveying men about their sexual function. The different questions used could skew the responses, as could the drug itself, he noted in the review. The 39 percent of men in the original 1982 study who said marijuana extended the duration of sex may just have been experiencing the drug's altering effects on the perception of time.
What most concerns Shamloul is a study published in 2010 in the journal European Urology. In that study, researchers found receptors for tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), the active ingredient in marijuana, in penis tissue from five male patients and six rhesus monkeys. These receptors were mainly in the smooth muscle of the penis, Shamloul said. Additional lab studies suggest that THC has an inhibitory effect on the muscle.
"This is a more serious effect on the erectile function because the smooth muscle makes up 70 percent to 80 percent of the penis itself," Shamloul said.
Men and marijuana
Marijuana use is widespread, especially among men at their sexual peak in life, Shamloul said. The United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime reports that 162 million people worldwide use marijuana each year. More than 22 million use it daily. That makes understanding long-term effects important, Shamloul said.
People tend to focus on the possible upsides of marijuana more than the possible downsides, said Sharon Johnson, a professor of social work at the University of Missouri, St. Louis, who has studied marijuana use and sexual health in the past. Her study, published in 2004 in the journal Archives of Sexual Behavior, found that marijuana users have a slightly elevated risk of inhibited orgasms and pain during sex. (Johnson was not involved in Shamloul's review study.)
Research on sexual health and marijuana use in women is even less common than studies in men, Shamloul said.
"What we are really missing are clinical studies," Shamloul said. "We are stuck with only animal studies and molecular studies, and some clinical studies done in the '60s and '70s, most on a very small number of men… We need well-designed, placebo-control studies examining marijuana's effect in both the short-term and long-term."
Now the study:
Marijuana users sometimes report that pot enhances their desire for sex. But a new review of research on marijuana and sexual health suggests that male smokers could be courting sexual dysfunction.
Research on the topic is contradictory and few studies are high-quality, said study researcher Rany Shamloul, a physician with appointments at the University of Ottawa and Queen's University in Canada as well as the University of Cairo. But recent research – including the finding that the penis contains receptors for marijuana's active ingredient – suggests that young men may want to think about long-term effects before rolling a joint, Shamloul told LiveScience.
"It's a strong message to our younger generations and younger men," Shamloul said.
Shamloul reported his findings online Jan. 26 in the Journal of Sexual Medicine.
Sex and drugs
Scientists first began to study marijuana and sex in the 1970s. Some researchers found that cannabis seemed to have the effect of a love drug; in one 1982 study published in the Journal of Psychoactive Drugs, 75 percent of male pot smokers said the drug enhanced their sex lives. Meanwhile, another study published in the same journal the same year found that erectile dysfunction was twice as common in marijuana users – not such good news for lit lotharios. Other research suggests a dose effect, in which small amounts of marijuana have little impact on sexual dysfunction, but more marijuana makes for fewer erections.
But problems are rife with this research, Shamloul said, because none of the studies used validated measurement techniques when surveying men about their sexual function. The different questions used could skew the responses, as could the drug itself, he noted in the review. The 39 percent of men in the original 1982 study who said marijuana extended the duration of sex may just have been experiencing the drug's altering effects on the perception of time.
What most concerns Shamloul is a study published in 2010 in the journal European Urology. In that study, researchers found receptors for tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), the active ingredient in marijuana, in penis tissue from five male patients and six rhesus monkeys. These receptors were mainly in the smooth muscle of the penis, Shamloul said. Additional lab studies suggest that THC has an inhibitory effect on the muscle.
"This is a more serious effect on the erectile function because the smooth muscle makes up 70 percent to 80 percent of the penis itself," Shamloul said.
Men and marijuana
Marijuana use is widespread, especially among men at their sexual peak in life, Shamloul said. The United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime reports that 162 million people worldwide use marijuana each year. More than 22 million use it daily. That makes understanding long-term effects important, Shamloul said.
People tend to focus on the possible upsides of marijuana more than the possible downsides, said Sharon Johnson, a professor of social work at the University of Missouri, St. Louis, who has studied marijuana use and sexual health in the past. Her study, published in 2004 in the journal Archives of Sexual Behavior, found that marijuana users have a slightly elevated risk of inhibited orgasms and pain during sex. (Johnson was not involved in Shamloul's review study.)
Research on sexual health and marijuana use in women is even less common than studies in men, Shamloul said.
"What we are really missing are clinical studies," Shamloul said. "We are stuck with only animal studies and molecular studies, and some clinical studies done in the '60s and '70s, most on a very small number of men… We need well-designed, placebo-control studies examining marijuana's effect in both the short-term and long-term."
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Art for sale
I was an internet art sensation.
That is not true.
Well, it was kind of true.
In the span of a few years, a little tiny website I created garnered enough attention to lead the the sales of over 100 paints and almost as many hand made clocks.
That much is true.
It was a great time.
I was kind of lucky because I did not know what I was doing. I created the website out of some Microsoft box thing. The site was a mess, flying things and wells and a dog. It was just a jumbled mess, but you could find pictures of paintings and you could email and a price would be agreed to, I would get a check, you would get a painting and the world seemed to keep spinning without any sort of notation.
I was traveling a lot back then and everywhere I went I did some sort of marketing, largely illegal, some of it disgusting, some of it kind of funny. I would go to art openings in major cities and slip my cards into the galleries own marketing materials. Posters went up in subways in Paris, London, New York and business in many major cities. I never paid a dime for advertising. I never hired a press agency or marketing firm. In the end the site closed down with more than 1 million unique visitors.
I bring all of this to your attention, in part, because I have a slew of new paintings I may want to sell if I can't get a gallery to show some interest, but mostly, I wanted to direct you to this site SITE
That is not true.
Well, it was kind of true.
In the span of a few years, a little tiny website I created garnered enough attention to lead the the sales of over 100 paints and almost as many hand made clocks.
That much is true.
It was a great time.
I was kind of lucky because I did not know what I was doing. I created the website out of some Microsoft box thing. The site was a mess, flying things and wells and a dog. It was just a jumbled mess, but you could find pictures of paintings and you could email and a price would be agreed to, I would get a check, you would get a painting and the world seemed to keep spinning without any sort of notation.
I was traveling a lot back then and everywhere I went I did some sort of marketing, largely illegal, some of it disgusting, some of it kind of funny. I would go to art openings in major cities and slip my cards into the galleries own marketing materials. Posters went up in subways in Paris, London, New York and business in many major cities. I never paid a dime for advertising. I never hired a press agency or marketing firm. In the end the site closed down with more than 1 million unique visitors.
I bring all of this to your attention, in part, because I have a slew of new paintings I may want to sell if I can't get a gallery to show some interest, but mostly, I wanted to direct you to this site SITE
Valentines day
First off, I do not believe in Valentines Day. Never have, never will. I have never bought into the idea that on this day, somehow, we lemmings are supposed to run for jewels or candy or flowers or something and give those purchased items to someone we love. Always seemed stupid, still does.
In the past I have found fun and interesting ways to avoid the "holiday". Certainly while I was dating Sketchy The Addict, we both intellectually agreed that V-Day (our little fun term) was just a consumerist nightmade, designed to make Hersheys a decent profit while getting middle aged men laid.
Sketchy The Addict did not believe in a lot of the holidays of America, which was a good way for me to save money. You don't believe in something, why buy gifts for it? Brilliant logic.
During my time with Stony the artist, we skipped the vast majority of holidays, preferring to stay in bed, eat pizza, read books that made no sense and make love like humans are generally not allowed to do. Stony and I were together only one Valentines Day, but for the life of me, I can not remember what we may have done.
The woman I loved was so long ago, college and everything, and we too did not spend a great deal of time focused on the culture. That is, we avoided anything that seemed fake and there is nothing more fake than Valentines Day. It was almost our duty to pretend like it was just another day, which of course, it is. Except for the middle aged men getting laid part, but back then, the last thing we wanted to think about was middle aged men doing the nasty.
At some point I became such a middle aged man. At some point I was dating Drunky McDunkington during a valentines day. I believe we went out to a romantic dinner, ate great foot, drank amazing wine and probably snuck back to the house we shared and converted our bodies into naked pretzels. That may be my favorite valentines day I can remember. It is, unfortunately, not the only valentines day I remember.
In the past I have found fun and interesting ways to avoid the "holiday". Certainly while I was dating Sketchy The Addict, we both intellectually agreed that V-Day (our little fun term) was just a consumerist nightmade, designed to make Hersheys a decent profit while getting middle aged men laid.
Sketchy The Addict did not believe in a lot of the holidays of America, which was a good way for me to save money. You don't believe in something, why buy gifts for it? Brilliant logic.
During my time with Stony the artist, we skipped the vast majority of holidays, preferring to stay in bed, eat pizza, read books that made no sense and make love like humans are generally not allowed to do. Stony and I were together only one Valentines Day, but for the life of me, I can not remember what we may have done.
The woman I loved was so long ago, college and everything, and we too did not spend a great deal of time focused on the culture. That is, we avoided anything that seemed fake and there is nothing more fake than Valentines Day. It was almost our duty to pretend like it was just another day, which of course, it is. Except for the middle aged men getting laid part, but back then, the last thing we wanted to think about was middle aged men doing the nasty.
At some point I became such a middle aged man. At some point I was dating Drunky McDunkington during a valentines day. I believe we went out to a romantic dinner, ate great foot, drank amazing wine and probably snuck back to the house we shared and converted our bodies into naked pretzels. That may be my favorite valentines day I can remember. It is, unfortunately, not the only valentines day I remember.
Spring cleaning
A little advice.
Get some of those construction sized trash bags and go room by room, start with the obvious stuff you do not need, like almost burned out candles and papers you no longer need. Into on trash bag. Then, room to room, do bedrooms first. Open drawers and go through everything in them. Don't need? Into another bag, this one for charity, the other for trash.
Room to room, and then, after a few hours of doing this, you have bags of trash and bags of donations. My next step is key, closets and storage areas. Go through everything, every box, every plastic bin. Keep in mind old video games and wire collections might be handy to someone at Goodwill. Meaningless pictures get the trash bag, no one at a thrift store wants to see your high school graduation mugging. Art work can be sketchy. My attitude is that if its stored in a closet, it's probably time to donate it to someone else. Let your amazing collection become someone who might really enjoy it.
Do one more quick run through all the closets and dressers. Bag everything that you never wear, would never fit, is against all style and fashion rules and is somehow in your closet but belongs to someone else. All of it goes into a donate bag.
Now, do the drive. Garbage goes to the dumpster, recyclables to the other bin and donations, Goodwill. It is key to get it all out of your house, because if you take the bags and put them in your empty basement, chances are you will not get rid of them. The day you clean should be ended with the day you trash and donate. It's a cycle.
I know, it is not spring, but the removal of clutter, the donating of stuff and the freedom this brings you will make even the coldest winter day seem like one of those ultra-hot summer days.
Enjoy.
Get some of those construction sized trash bags and go room by room, start with the obvious stuff you do not need, like almost burned out candles and papers you no longer need. Into on trash bag. Then, room to room, do bedrooms first. Open drawers and go through everything in them. Don't need? Into another bag, this one for charity, the other for trash.
Room to room, and then, after a few hours of doing this, you have bags of trash and bags of donations. My next step is key, closets and storage areas. Go through everything, every box, every plastic bin. Keep in mind old video games and wire collections might be handy to someone at Goodwill. Meaningless pictures get the trash bag, no one at a thrift store wants to see your high school graduation mugging. Art work can be sketchy. My attitude is that if its stored in a closet, it's probably time to donate it to someone else. Let your amazing collection become someone who might really enjoy it.
Do one more quick run through all the closets and dressers. Bag everything that you never wear, would never fit, is against all style and fashion rules and is somehow in your closet but belongs to someone else. All of it goes into a donate bag.
Now, do the drive. Garbage goes to the dumpster, recyclables to the other bin and donations, Goodwill. It is key to get it all out of your house, because if you take the bags and put them in your empty basement, chances are you will not get rid of them. The day you clean should be ended with the day you trash and donate. It's a cycle.
I know, it is not spring, but the removal of clutter, the donating of stuff and the freedom this brings you will make even the coldest winter day seem like one of those ultra-hot summer days.
Enjoy.
Friday, February 11, 2011
The happy relationship letter
"A friend sent me a link to your site a few weeks ago and now I am hooked. You recently asked for positive stories of relationships and I wanted to share mine. First off, for us, the key has been commitment. I have been reading the last few weeks of letters and responses and my heart goes out to the people who were dating psycho liars. Let me restate the key to a solid relationship, do not go out with psychos. After you have weeded out the psychos, the next step is finding someone you can commit to. My wife and I have been together 14 years and dated and lived together another 4. The minute I saw her I knew she was special. We started kind of fast, I think we slept together the first night we met, if not the first, certainly that weekend. While her beauty attracted me, her brains and attitude have kept me interested. Again, let me stress, when you commit to someone and take that seriously, then I think everything else will work out. If, on the other hand, you have a wandering eye, cruise for easy lays online or visit prostitutes while traveling, you are not really committed to anything but your own ego. My wife and I lead fairly separate lives, we both work, we both have active lives beyond our relationship, but we make a point to include on another in social gatherings and even sporting events, although she hates football, she now goes to the university games with me during the season. Have we ever had a fight? Hell yes. A knock down drag out fight? Yes, but maybe twice in almost 20 years. It just hardly ever gets to that point. Do we still have sex after almost 20 years together? Yes we do, not nearly as much as we did that first weekend together :), but we are frequent partakers in a healthy sexual life. I trust her and I know she trusts me, when we got married, we made a vow to one another and did so in front of family and friends and we took that seriously. What I see around me in failing relationships and some of the letters you have published seem to be people who either can not be faithful, or believe they have some right to getting some strange on the side no matter who gets hurt. I knew very early this was a woman I wanted to be with and part of our commitment included monogamy. I would have it no other way and while I am ill at ease speaking for her, I am pretty sure we are on the same page on that. There is no road map to a happy relationship, but what works for us is honesty, respect, sexual compatibility and the desire to make it work, not matter what. My advice to your readers is be open about what you want, be honest about who you are as a person and accept that others are not just like you and do not get attached to psychos, because they will drag you down to their own little hell. Two questions, do you ask people if it is OK to publish their letters? Also, what is your background?"
First, thank you for the letter. I would so much publish letters from happy people than people getting ready for an STD screening.
To answer your questions, I often try and respond to letters sent to me via email, to ask follow up questions and see where that goes. I have asked people if it is OK to publish their letters, and I have not asked some. It depends. I also edit letters to remove things that might indicate who the person is, or who the psycho lover is.
My background? Well, to answer the subtext of your question, I am not trained to answer questions professionally. I have been in therapy and did not always like it. The questions sent to me, for the most part, appear to be real so I try to answer them as best as I can. Sometimes I just get pissed that people are scummy and I lose it.
Then again, scummy people need to be called on it, because my sense is, there is a swatch of people out there who feel entitled to do whatever they do, cheat, lie, steal and then are offended when someone calls them scummy. Oh well.
Again, thank you for sharing a loving relationship story. You letter came in earlier this week, but I have been literally swamped with all sorts of drama.
First, thank you for the letter. I would so much publish letters from happy people than people getting ready for an STD screening.
To answer your questions, I often try and respond to letters sent to me via email, to ask follow up questions and see where that goes. I have asked people if it is OK to publish their letters, and I have not asked some. It depends. I also edit letters to remove things that might indicate who the person is, or who the psycho lover is.
My background? Well, to answer the subtext of your question, I am not trained to answer questions professionally. I have been in therapy and did not always like it. The questions sent to me, for the most part, appear to be real so I try to answer them as best as I can. Sometimes I just get pissed that people are scummy and I lose it.
Then again, scummy people need to be called on it, because my sense is, there is a swatch of people out there who feel entitled to do whatever they do, cheat, lie, steal and then are offended when someone calls them scummy. Oh well.
Again, thank you for sharing a loving relationship story. You letter came in earlier this week, but I have been literally swamped with all sorts of drama.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Modern technological STD
"I found your blog via Twitter and was kind of fascinated by the gay couple, as posted in a couple of earlier posts. I broke up with my boyfriend because he too was trolling gay sites. I have a weird question for you. After we broke up, and knowing he had been playing the field, I got a complete STD screening. I tested positive for HPV, or genital warts. The doctor said I don't actually have any, but he said I am infected. My question, do I bother to tell the cheating ex?"
I emailed you back, no answer. Not sure why people ask me questions and then turn their back on my follow up questions.
Ethically you should tell the ex. Morally you should tell the ex. Then again, did you have this virus before you met the ex? (that was one of my questions emailed to you.) You do not say how long or how monogamous you two were. So I am tired of filling in the blanks.
Bottom line, if you were tested and had nothing when you were with a monogamous partner, and now you have kicked him to the curb because he can not bother to keep his wang in his panties, and then, after all that drama, you find that this sweet loving ex of yours gave you a parting gift, then I say, fuck him, don't bother telling.
Why would he deserve the heads up? He is the infector of record, or so I surmise. So, while you could tell him, because chances are he is infecting others as I type this message, or you could just forget about him, get the treatment you need to stay as healthy as possible and stop dating sketchy guys who charm you with one hand, while typing love notes to strangers to online hookups with the other. Or something like that.
Jesus, does anyone remember when I begged for positive relationship stories? It was not that long ago, like yesterday?
Oh, I got two.
I will post them, but to be honest, STD and badly written hate against people seem to capture my interest a lot faster.
My weakness I guess.
I emailed you back, no answer. Not sure why people ask me questions and then turn their back on my follow up questions.
Ethically you should tell the ex. Morally you should tell the ex. Then again, did you have this virus before you met the ex? (that was one of my questions emailed to you.) You do not say how long or how monogamous you two were. So I am tired of filling in the blanks.
Bottom line, if you were tested and had nothing when you were with a monogamous partner, and now you have kicked him to the curb because he can not bother to keep his wang in his panties, and then, after all that drama, you find that this sweet loving ex of yours gave you a parting gift, then I say, fuck him, don't bother telling.
Why would he deserve the heads up? He is the infector of record, or so I surmise. So, while you could tell him, because chances are he is infecting others as I type this message, or you could just forget about him, get the treatment you need to stay as healthy as possible and stop dating sketchy guys who charm you with one hand, while typing love notes to strangers to online hookups with the other. Or something like that.
Jesus, does anyone remember when I begged for positive relationship stories? It was not that long ago, like yesterday?
Oh, I got two.
I will post them, but to be honest, STD and badly written hate against people seem to capture my interest a lot faster.
My weakness I guess.
The angry illiterate woman
This just in:
"The whole problem stems from the facts that everyone feels things are always greener somewhere else. People today are just caught up in "it's all about me", no one care who they hurt, offend and they all feel they have the right to judge everyone and everything around them. FUCK THAT!!!!!
I've been with a man for 15yrs, we have children, neither of us are fat(unless you want to call 110lbs fat-ass) or unattractive, he works everyday, I cook meals at least 5 times a week for the whole family, run kids to sporting events, doctors appointments and allow them the socializing with friends they need) clean the house everyday, 3-4 loads of laundry daily, do tons of yard work, keep the house warm in an uncoventional way. We have sex as minimal as 3 times a week but usually everyday. I buy him gifts all the time, leave him sweet notes, go out of my way to make him feel special (even tho, he fucking does not deserve it anymore)
And right before the holidays decides to tell me he Cheated, liar, cheating is one thing, he had an affair for months and now expects me to forgive him, and allow them to remain friends,get past it and life will be all good.
Fuck him and all you other pieces of shit out there, who have it so good and talk all your shit, we'll see what kind of shit you are going to get..... hope to see lots of dickless men in the world, maybe mine will be the 1st.
Sex should be a privlage, the reward of a relationship and way to many people take advantage of what they really have, todays world is soooooo sad!!!!!"
I am not sure where to start. Sorry to hear you had children?
I think affairs are forgivable, depending on the relationship, the affair and the children. See, and I have said this someplace else, but unlike you, I do not read this blog. Children need two parents, it is that simple. It does not matter if the parents are happy, gay or having affairs, it is better for children to have both and get this, parents do a hell of a lot better with two in the mix.
I have been studying relationships for a long time, asking questions people did not want to answer, watching how loving couples interact, oh my, the list is endless. Here is what I have learned, no relationship is like another. That's it.
People in relationships sometimes find that their partner cheated. Some end it right there, some don't. Not a single person I know of has cut their partners penis off, although many have thought about it.
Bottom line, it would be better for the kids if you two entered into therapy and tried to work it out. Probably better for you too, since you stay at home and take care of kids and he makes a living. Just saying.
"The whole problem stems from the facts that everyone feels things are always greener somewhere else. People today are just caught up in "it's all about me", no one care who they hurt, offend and they all feel they have the right to judge everyone and everything around them. FUCK THAT!!!!!
I've been with a man for 15yrs, we have children, neither of us are fat(unless you want to call 110lbs fat-ass) or unattractive, he works everyday, I cook meals at least 5 times a week for the whole family, run kids to sporting events, doctors appointments and allow them the socializing with friends they need) clean the house everyday, 3-4 loads of laundry daily, do tons of yard work, keep the house warm in an uncoventional way. We have sex as minimal as 3 times a week but usually everyday. I buy him gifts all the time, leave him sweet notes, go out of my way to make him feel special (even tho, he fucking does not deserve it anymore)
And right before the holidays decides to tell me he Cheated, liar, cheating is one thing, he had an affair for months and now expects me to forgive him, and allow them to remain friends,get past it and life will be all good.
Fuck him and all you other pieces of shit out there, who have it so good and talk all your shit, we'll see what kind of shit you are going to get..... hope to see lots of dickless men in the world, maybe mine will be the 1st.
Sex should be a privlage, the reward of a relationship and way to many people take advantage of what they really have, todays world is soooooo sad!!!!!"
I am not sure where to start. Sorry to hear you had children?
I think affairs are forgivable, depending on the relationship, the affair and the children. See, and I have said this someplace else, but unlike you, I do not read this blog. Children need two parents, it is that simple. It does not matter if the parents are happy, gay or having affairs, it is better for children to have both and get this, parents do a hell of a lot better with two in the mix.
I have been studying relationships for a long time, asking questions people did not want to answer, watching how loving couples interact, oh my, the list is endless. Here is what I have learned, no relationship is like another. That's it.
People in relationships sometimes find that their partner cheated. Some end it right there, some don't. Not a single person I know of has cut their partners penis off, although many have thought about it.
Bottom line, it would be better for the kids if you two entered into therapy and tried to work it out. Probably better for you too, since you stay at home and take care of kids and he makes a living. Just saying.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
A gift to you
As some of you know, every now and I then I sell out. So slap me with a salmon.
My connection at www.allmodern.com would like me to publicize something, that part is unclear, but once I do, I will be able to give one of you super lucky readers a gift certificate for their website, which is actually a large number of sites, some cookware some clothing, something else and on and on.
So, once the details are worked out, you and I will do some sort of dance competition, share large quantities of alcohol (yes I am off the wagon, thank you very much) and I will arrange for you and your friends to get this amazing gift certificate. Promise.
Also, again, I am begging, bring on the "we're so happy in our long term committed relationship" stories, because after today, I am sad beyond belief.
My connection at www.allmodern.com would like me to publicize something, that part is unclear, but once I do, I will be able to give one of you super lucky readers a gift certificate for their website, which is actually a large number of sites, some cookware some clothing, something else and on and on.
So, once the details are worked out, you and I will do some sort of dance competition, share large quantities of alcohol (yes I am off the wagon, thank you very much) and I will arrange for you and your friends to get this amazing gift certificate. Promise.
Also, again, I am begging, bring on the "we're so happy in our long term committed relationship" stories, because after today, I am sad beyond belief.
Get tested
Well, I finally got the email that I have been kind of expecting. See, at some point I started answering questions on this blog, much to my own frail mental safety. All of a sudden people began sending me sad tales of relationship problems. For the most part, I do not respond to emails and the more interesting questions or problems, I just post in here.
One of the things I remind people of is that if you are sexually active, you might want to keep your doctor on speed dial. STD's are rampant, especially in the super sexual people, those craigslist hookup junkies, or my gay friends cruising gay hookup sites.
Todays sad, but sadly real, letter was long and full of explanations, but I edit, and here is what you, dear blog reader, get: "I read with interest a recent post of yours, where a writer found his lovers open web browser and found his lover was online, looking for online sex, or real time sex from an online site. It got me thinking, I did some snooping, found the same thing happening with my LTR and immediately, thought I have to get tested."
On and on it went, trust me, I know more about these two homo's than their respective mothers and knowing homo's as well as I do, that is saying a lot.
Somewhere near the end of the letter he wrote about his broken heart, how his trust had been violated, how the test will be the end of the relationship. I did not write back.
In the gay world, well, in every world, committed relationships almost always contain a no-hookup clause. Especially in a gay relationship, that means that both parties will not be doing the homo-nasty with other homo's, even though it is readily available on about a million sites, including Craigslist sites around the world. Why do the homo's do this? My guess is that they want to avoid sexually transmitted diseases, because quite honestly, STD's can fuck up your day. Or kill you, depends which one you get.
So you commit. You promise. You make plans. You buy a house, rent a dog and plan for a long life together. Then you find an open web browser, you check the history because you have some free time, and you find this wonderful person you are so committed to is just as committed to meeting complete strangers and engaging in unprotected sex, often.
My email writing reader was nice enough to explain his relationship, what he thought was his relationship, and what he thinks about psychotic gay men in general (the people who hook up and engage in dangerous sex) and psychotic gay men he has been dating (the boyfriend who was hooking up and engaging is dangerous sex). See, when we commit to people, what we are doing is telling them and the world that the relationship will mean something and every individual gets to define that. In my world, committing to someone means being monogamous, but I know many people who do not agree to those terms and as adults, they are allowed to make those decisions. Except I keep getting emails from people who believe like I do, and at some point, their psycho partners changed the rules without cluing them in.
First, let me run with this. You realize, you readers, that looking at someones picture on a hookup site, emailing them, complementing them, setting up a meeting, probably at their apartment (since your apartment has a boyfriend of yours living there) and driving to the hookups apartment, well, you do realize that you could just get killed by a gay hating online stalker, right? Or you could get robbed, right? Or you could pick up a curable STD and give that to your lover, yes? Or you could pick up an even worse STD and share that too? So, you put all that in your head and you still are running out for easy sex? Got it. I would imagine that calling such actions suicidal would be politically incorrect?
I gave up a long time ago trying to figure out the inner workings of others relationships. I gave up trying to figure out what works for others and what does not, because individuals get to define all of that for themselves. What has been frustrating me about these letters is how many people are being sold one bill of goods in the relationship aisle, only to find out that without knowing about it, what they bought had a throw out date attached.
Believe it or not, I am a big supporter of open relationships, mostly because I think adults like change. More importantly, I am a big believer in honesty. See, if my blogger reader/letter writing person would have had a dialog with his lover and they both agreed on cruising for hot flesh online was OK, then I would never have received his outraged email. Instead, his lover changed the rules, fooled around and gave him a disease. There, the fish is out of the pond, long term relationship psycho game his unsuspecting lover an STD, a curable STD, but in the long run, curable diseases are still diseases.
Anyway, letter writer got tested. Which really is the bottom line. One of the things you think you get to avoid when you get married, or form a committed relationship, is those frequent trips to the doctor to get examined and tested. One of the things that psychos in relationships seem to do is break those rules, and that means non-knowing, innocent partners get to find out on their own A- they have been dating a psychotic liar and B- the test results come back positive.
Now letter writing blog reader, you are going to write me another email and ask what to do with the psycho hook up scum bag you were committed to. That one I will answer in a private email, because (trust me on this one) I know this territory and I have some suggestions.
One of the things I remind people of is that if you are sexually active, you might want to keep your doctor on speed dial. STD's are rampant, especially in the super sexual people, those craigslist hookup junkies, or my gay friends cruising gay hookup sites.
Todays sad, but sadly real, letter was long and full of explanations, but I edit, and here is what you, dear blog reader, get: "I read with interest a recent post of yours, where a writer found his lovers open web browser and found his lover was online, looking for online sex, or real time sex from an online site. It got me thinking, I did some snooping, found the same thing happening with my LTR and immediately, thought I have to get tested."
On and on it went, trust me, I know more about these two homo's than their respective mothers and knowing homo's as well as I do, that is saying a lot.
Somewhere near the end of the letter he wrote about his broken heart, how his trust had been violated, how the test will be the end of the relationship. I did not write back.
In the gay world, well, in every world, committed relationships almost always contain a no-hookup clause. Especially in a gay relationship, that means that both parties will not be doing the homo-nasty with other homo's, even though it is readily available on about a million sites, including Craigslist sites around the world. Why do the homo's do this? My guess is that they want to avoid sexually transmitted diseases, because quite honestly, STD's can fuck up your day. Or kill you, depends which one you get.
So you commit. You promise. You make plans. You buy a house, rent a dog and plan for a long life together. Then you find an open web browser, you check the history because you have some free time, and you find this wonderful person you are so committed to is just as committed to meeting complete strangers and engaging in unprotected sex, often.
My email writing reader was nice enough to explain his relationship, what he thought was his relationship, and what he thinks about psychotic gay men in general (the people who hook up and engage in dangerous sex) and psychotic gay men he has been dating (the boyfriend who was hooking up and engaging is dangerous sex). See, when we commit to people, what we are doing is telling them and the world that the relationship will mean something and every individual gets to define that. In my world, committing to someone means being monogamous, but I know many people who do not agree to those terms and as adults, they are allowed to make those decisions. Except I keep getting emails from people who believe like I do, and at some point, their psycho partners changed the rules without cluing them in.
First, let me run with this. You realize, you readers, that looking at someones picture on a hookup site, emailing them, complementing them, setting up a meeting, probably at their apartment (since your apartment has a boyfriend of yours living there) and driving to the hookups apartment, well, you do realize that you could just get killed by a gay hating online stalker, right? Or you could get robbed, right? Or you could pick up a curable STD and give that to your lover, yes? Or you could pick up an even worse STD and share that too? So, you put all that in your head and you still are running out for easy sex? Got it. I would imagine that calling such actions suicidal would be politically incorrect?
I gave up a long time ago trying to figure out the inner workings of others relationships. I gave up trying to figure out what works for others and what does not, because individuals get to define all of that for themselves. What has been frustrating me about these letters is how many people are being sold one bill of goods in the relationship aisle, only to find out that without knowing about it, what they bought had a throw out date attached.
Believe it or not, I am a big supporter of open relationships, mostly because I think adults like change. More importantly, I am a big believer in honesty. See, if my blogger reader/letter writing person would have had a dialog with his lover and they both agreed on cruising for hot flesh online was OK, then I would never have received his outraged email. Instead, his lover changed the rules, fooled around and gave him a disease. There, the fish is out of the pond, long term relationship psycho game his unsuspecting lover an STD, a curable STD, but in the long run, curable diseases are still diseases.
Anyway, letter writer got tested. Which really is the bottom line. One of the things you think you get to avoid when you get married, or form a committed relationship, is those frequent trips to the doctor to get examined and tested. One of the things that psychos in relationships seem to do is break those rules, and that means non-knowing, innocent partners get to find out on their own A- they have been dating a psychotic liar and B- the test results come back positive.
Now letter writing blog reader, you are going to write me another email and ask what to do with the psycho hook up scum bag you were committed to. That one I will answer in a private email, because (trust me on this one) I know this territory and I have some suggestions.
Please, I am begging
So, at some point I opened pandoras box. I answered an email about relationships and everyone with a failed or failing relationship has now found this blog and has been feverishly writing me emails.
I get it, many people are unhappy with the person they used to be happy with.
Sure, I will continue to answer the letters, although judging by the emails I received this morning, I have no clue what I am talking about. Which is true by the way.
Anyway, I am putting out a call, please email, please send me your stories, but could some of you people in happy, functional relationships begin to share your stories, because I am literally being flooded with scary tales of screw balls, liars, skeeze balls and fuck-tards.
Happy stories. Long term relationship success stories. Stores of love and understanding. Please.
Thank you.
I get it, many people are unhappy with the person they used to be happy with.
Sure, I will continue to answer the letters, although judging by the emails I received this morning, I have no clue what I am talking about. Which is true by the way.
Anyway, I am putting out a call, please email, please send me your stories, but could some of you people in happy, functional relationships begin to share your stories, because I am literally being flooded with scary tales of screw balls, liars, skeeze balls and fuck-tards.
Happy stories. Long term relationship success stories. Stores of love and understanding. Please.
Thank you.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Porn and the people who like it
"Hi, I was just wondering what you take is on porn."
You want to know what I think of porn? Wait, there was more to your letter.
"Do you think people in a normal relationship should engage in viewing porn?"
Is that really your question? Seriously? First, how do you define "normal"?
Wait, there was more to your letter.
"My boyfriend of over 3 years likes to watch porn, I do not. He says it gets him excited, but I thought I did that. I am confused, is porn cheating? Should I be worried? What should I do?"
First, I am not big on porn, it just does not always make sense to me. You would not believe how many times I have ordered pizza and when the delivery man comes, all I get is pizza.
That said, your boyfriend of over 3 years seems, what's the word I am looking for, umm, normal? Yeah, that's it.
I emailed you back, but like so many other letter writers, you really don't want a dialog. My question to you is, do you masturbate? If so, do you have any toys? OK. Here is the deal, men masturbate and don't use toys, god was nice enough to attach one for us, all we have to do is wake it up. How do we do that? Some of us just think impure thoughts and some of us look at porn, or bra ads from Sears catalogs from the 60's or, really, it does not take much.
So, if I were your boyfriend, and I am pretty sure I am not, but if I was, I would be honest about why I look at porn and tell you that you are not the end all of my sexuality. You are not in competition with the porn. Think of it this way, your boyfriend has a car, yes? And when he is driving his car, does he ever look at other cars and say something like, "damn, I wish I was driving that car?" Men like to lust, women do too, but men are less guarded about it. We look at butts, and breasts and cars and porn. We look, it is what we like to do.
So what should you do? Maybe join in on some porn watching. I don't know. Is it normal? Who cares? Normal is what is normal for you two, and if he is a porn guy, then guess what? Watching porn is totally normal for him.
If I have ever learned anything, and these days that is a great big giant question, one thing I have learned is that people will do what they have always done. If your boyfriend was watching porn when you met, he will continue it. If he was cruising for chicks online, he will continue it. People change, but in small increments.
My suggestion, pick your battles and trust me, porn is not worth the battle. He likes it, it does not hurt anything, you did not mention he was not being sexual with you or that he was comparing you to the fake boobs and non-existent orgasms of the women in porn, no, he watches it, and sometimes he gets all excited and has wild porn driven sex with you and sometimes he gets all excited and has wild porn driven sex with himself. Case closed.
Unless he is watching gay porn, if that's the case, email me back. Oh, and have him email me too.
You want to know what I think of porn? Wait, there was more to your letter.
"Do you think people in a normal relationship should engage in viewing porn?"
Is that really your question? Seriously? First, how do you define "normal"?
Wait, there was more to your letter.
"My boyfriend of over 3 years likes to watch porn, I do not. He says it gets him excited, but I thought I did that. I am confused, is porn cheating? Should I be worried? What should I do?"
First, I am not big on porn, it just does not always make sense to me. You would not believe how many times I have ordered pizza and when the delivery man comes, all I get is pizza.
That said, your boyfriend of over 3 years seems, what's the word I am looking for, umm, normal? Yeah, that's it.
I emailed you back, but like so many other letter writers, you really don't want a dialog. My question to you is, do you masturbate? If so, do you have any toys? OK. Here is the deal, men masturbate and don't use toys, god was nice enough to attach one for us, all we have to do is wake it up. How do we do that? Some of us just think impure thoughts and some of us look at porn, or bra ads from Sears catalogs from the 60's or, really, it does not take much.
So, if I were your boyfriend, and I am pretty sure I am not, but if I was, I would be honest about why I look at porn and tell you that you are not the end all of my sexuality. You are not in competition with the porn. Think of it this way, your boyfriend has a car, yes? And when he is driving his car, does he ever look at other cars and say something like, "damn, I wish I was driving that car?" Men like to lust, women do too, but men are less guarded about it. We look at butts, and breasts and cars and porn. We look, it is what we like to do.
So what should you do? Maybe join in on some porn watching. I don't know. Is it normal? Who cares? Normal is what is normal for you two, and if he is a porn guy, then guess what? Watching porn is totally normal for him.
If I have ever learned anything, and these days that is a great big giant question, one thing I have learned is that people will do what they have always done. If your boyfriend was watching porn when you met, he will continue it. If he was cruising for chicks online, he will continue it. People change, but in small increments.
My suggestion, pick your battles and trust me, porn is not worth the battle. He likes it, it does not hurt anything, you did not mention he was not being sexual with you or that he was comparing you to the fake boobs and non-existent orgasms of the women in porn, no, he watches it, and sometimes he gets all excited and has wild porn driven sex with you and sometimes he gets all excited and has wild porn driven sex with himself. Case closed.
Unless he is watching gay porn, if that's the case, email me back. Oh, and have him email me too.
My name is not Vitaly Shved
A couple of decades ago I was happily married and the brain stealing zombies had yet to appear. Somewhere around this time I fell madly in love with a local Seattle coffee roaster and decided to invest in the company. This would have been a time, long ago, where I had money to invest. Now I invest in a bottle of water and a decent pair of shoes, and it turns out I get more from my new investment than I ever did from my coffee shares.
Vitaly Shved, you are a tease and a bad tease at that. Who is this Vitaly Shved everyone is talking about? Just so you know, when I say everyone, I am speaking about the chorus inside my head, doubtful Mrs. Shved really cares where sweet young Vitaly is doing.
While cleaning out my bedroom this past weekend, and when I say cleaning, I mean cleansing it of all evil juju. This meant many trips to the local Goodwill and when I was all done, there was a large mess of papers on my bed. Papers that, as I was tossing things out, I thought to set aside to read and try to comprehend.
It is kind of amazing that at different points in our lives, we come across our history in the form of old bank accounts, letters from lawyers (my lord have I had a lot of letters from lawyers in my life) and stock certificates from companies that are almost as worthless as the bank documents and wedding announcements.
One of the gobs of papers was the stock certificates from this crap coffee company. I had long ago just threw these in with all the other papers my tax paying friend had told me I might need at some point.
Here is what I know from my tax paying friend, all documents are important, some more than others, but we must always prepare to prove to various governmental authorities that we saved, spent and earned what we said we did. I once asked how long do I have to keep these documents and my tax paying friend kind of coughed a little and said, "deadlines, the IRS ain't follow no stupid deadlines."
Weird, right?
So, I saw these stock certificates and I googled the company that issued them, which the search showed had been swallowed up by a large coffee company in Maine, or some other foreign country. All find my me, because of a large company bought my little coffee company, chances are I was now the proud holder of stock for a very large coffee company that could easily afford to by my shares. I went to the very large coffee companies website, clicked on Investor Relations because I am an investor you know, and quickly I saw numbers that made me want a new car. I was sure I was close to flush, not rich, but certainly enough cash for cheap Mexican food and an inflatable love doll.
I clicked the link to email the Investor Relations contact and sent off a little sweet email, begging, I mean, asking for information on the value of my once formidable stock.
Yesterday the Investor Relations woman sent me the nicest email. She was kind enough to explain that when her huge and successful coffee company purchased my puny and worthless company, they did not purchase the actual stores, and you know what the stores got to keep? The worthless stock. That's right, what was once just worthless had become completely useless. The paper the stock certificates is too thick to use as toilet paper, so don't waste comment space telling me what I can do with my certificates.
The very nice Investor Relations woman did tell me to check with the broke ass coffee retailers website and maybe email the imbecile they have handling Investor Relations. Hello Vitaly, this is where you come in.
See Vitaly Shved is the Investor Relations guru who emailed be back. Want to know the good news Vitaly had to share with me? He was nice enough to not get into investor relations double speak and keep things in a form I could understand. Vitaly, take it away: "The stock is not publicly traded and we do not assign a value to it.
Since the stock is not public, there is no market to sell the shares
currently."
Thank you so much Mr. Shved. So, what you are saying is that the value of the stock is zero? Vitaly, I'm talking to you. "No, they are not zero, but to give you a value we would need to do a valuation of the company to get a price, or go public (we almost did
back in 2007)."
So, while my mind was filled with images of cheap Mexican food and the latest Antonio Banderas inflatable love doll, I am left with what I had before, stock certificates of unknown value. Lucky for me I have a tax paying friend who advices me on such things. I'll be right back, will just make a quick call to see what to do now.
Vitaly Shved, you are a tease and a bad tease at that. Who is this Vitaly Shved everyone is talking about? Just so you know, when I say everyone, I am speaking about the chorus inside my head, doubtful Mrs. Shved really cares where sweet young Vitaly is doing.
While cleaning out my bedroom this past weekend, and when I say cleaning, I mean cleansing it of all evil juju. This meant many trips to the local Goodwill and when I was all done, there was a large mess of papers on my bed. Papers that, as I was tossing things out, I thought to set aside to read and try to comprehend.
It is kind of amazing that at different points in our lives, we come across our history in the form of old bank accounts, letters from lawyers (my lord have I had a lot of letters from lawyers in my life) and stock certificates from companies that are almost as worthless as the bank documents and wedding announcements.
One of the gobs of papers was the stock certificates from this crap coffee company. I had long ago just threw these in with all the other papers my tax paying friend had told me I might need at some point.
Here is what I know from my tax paying friend, all documents are important, some more than others, but we must always prepare to prove to various governmental authorities that we saved, spent and earned what we said we did. I once asked how long do I have to keep these documents and my tax paying friend kind of coughed a little and said, "deadlines, the IRS ain't follow no stupid deadlines."
Weird, right?
So, I saw these stock certificates and I googled the company that issued them, which the search showed had been swallowed up by a large coffee company in Maine, or some other foreign country. All find my me, because of a large company bought my little coffee company, chances are I was now the proud holder of stock for a very large coffee company that could easily afford to by my shares. I went to the very large coffee companies website, clicked on Investor Relations because I am an investor you know, and quickly I saw numbers that made me want a new car. I was sure I was close to flush, not rich, but certainly enough cash for cheap Mexican food and an inflatable love doll.
I clicked the link to email the Investor Relations contact and sent off a little sweet email, begging, I mean, asking for information on the value of my once formidable stock.
Yesterday the Investor Relations woman sent me the nicest email. She was kind enough to explain that when her huge and successful coffee company purchased my puny and worthless company, they did not purchase the actual stores, and you know what the stores got to keep? The worthless stock. That's right, what was once just worthless had become completely useless. The paper the stock certificates is too thick to use as toilet paper, so don't waste comment space telling me what I can do with my certificates.
The very nice Investor Relations woman did tell me to check with the broke ass coffee retailers website and maybe email the imbecile they have handling Investor Relations. Hello Vitaly, this is where you come in.
See Vitaly Shved is the Investor Relations guru who emailed be back. Want to know the good news Vitaly had to share with me? He was nice enough to not get into investor relations double speak and keep things in a form I could understand. Vitaly, take it away: "The stock is not publicly traded and we do not assign a value to it.
Since the stock is not public, there is no market to sell the shares
currently."
Thank you so much Mr. Shved. So, what you are saying is that the value of the stock is zero? Vitaly, I'm talking to you. "No, they are not zero, but to give you a value we would need to do a valuation of the company to get a price, or go public (we almost did
back in 2007)."
So, while my mind was filled with images of cheap Mexican food and the latest Antonio Banderas inflatable love doll, I am left with what I had before, stock certificates of unknown value. Lucky for me I have a tax paying friend who advices me on such things. I'll be right back, will just make a quick call to see what to do now.
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