Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Goldilocks and the 3 Bears of (not) Christmas Past

For those of you who are used to my blog posts being short and funny, and have therefore come to expect it, I apologize. If I were Tucker Max, I could no doubt turn this tale into a laugh riot and a half, but alas I am not. It contains some rather personal and painful things for me, but it is what is happening in my life right now and it's one of those things that needs to be put to the screen.

When I was 20, I was staying in a small condo with the girl I was dating at the time. One day in the small parking lot outside of the front gate, I found a dog named Tiny wandering around. Tiny was HUGE, black and white, fluffy with huge eyes and soft ears.

I have always had a bit of a thing about dogs since I had always wanted one and when I finally did get one when I was about 8 (a golden retriever puppy, I named Ruff Ruff) she was promptly given away by my grandmother while I was at school one day. I was scarred and desperately wanted a new dog every day after that.

I got the phone number from his tag and called Tiny's owners. The man I talked to was at work and hadn't even realized that Tiny was gone. I kept Tiny for the day, feeding him raw hot dogs and taking him for walks with a piece of rope tied around his collar.

When I returned Tiny, the owners thanked me and explained the gate was broken. The kids were happy to have Tiny back. I was the hero.

The second time Tiny showed up at my place, the same scene went down. This time I urged Tiny's family to fix the gate. It became routine. Every few days Tiny would come spend the day with me and I'd take him home in the evening, urging them to fix the gate.

After several times, I was going out to check the mail and it was no surprise for me to see Tiny on his way to my front gate, only this time Tiny was limping. He had been hit by a car and he fell down at my feet and died in my arms.

I'm 29 now and it seems I'm still taking in strays. I woke up from a nap on a Tuesday evening with a message on my phone from Tyrone (names changed to protect the innocent) inviting me out for some drinks. Since he was buying I rushed to the bar. Tyrone, Gorton and Garth were waiting on the patio along with a girl I didn't know.

It turned out that Tyrone had met her before anyone else arrived when she offered to share her ashtray. She lived in Glendale and had taken a $50 cab ride to get there. It soon became evident that she was a drinker to compete with and more than just a little crazy. She got drunker and drunker as we skipped from bar to bar passing out in each can ride but always pulling it together to an incredibly sober like state walking into each bar until we got to the Bikini Lounge.

For those of you not from Phoenix, the Bikini is a bar with a tiki theme and a history and reputation in Phoenix as the dive of all dives. We walked in and she promptly passed out in my lap after telling Brook what beautiful hair she has and running her hands through it. My wounded bird syndrome kicked in and I was now her protector but even a protector needs a piss and a smoke now and again so after awhile I asked Dylan (who had met up with us at some point in the night) to keep an eye on her.

After explaining to two guys in the bathroom that, "No, that girl isn't giving me oral sex under the table." "No, I didn't know her before tonight." and "No, you can't take her home." and having a cigarette, I came back to the booth and found only a guy I didn't know sitting there. I rushed outside and found her, wide awake and soaking wet. The bartender had seen her asleep in the booth and splashed her with cold water.

We were drunk enough to be convinced that she had sobered up enough for another beer and stopped at Sidebar and by the time we were done, she was passed out on the side walk out front. I fire man carried her to the cab and threw her in. We dropped off Tyrone at his place and I took her back to my apartment. The cab driver helped me hold her up so I could get her over my shoulder and slip her shoe which had fallen off into my back pocket. I helped her change into a pair of pyjama pants and put her to bed.

In the morning I cooked pancakes but Goldilocks wanted vodka. After a bit of conversation I realized that she was a very cool girl with great taste in music, a massage therapist and coming down off of heroin. She was drinking to ease the withdrawals and keep her mind off of the drug.

Maybe I'm an enabler or maybe I'm just a sucker but I poured her a vodka and another and another and she took me out for beers and spent a second night. The next morning I started to wonder if I had a new roommate as she didn't seem to have any intentions of going home but she finally called her sister in Scottsdale as she was supposed to stay the night with her so she could get her to court in the morning. Court for her DUI related accident.

That's why she'd taken a cab. She had told us the previous night. I tried to avoid the topic mostly because 8 years ago my sister and her husband were killed by a drunk driver. She was pregnant and my nephew was in the car but survived with only a broken leg so the topic was a bit awkward to say the least. I put Goldilocks on the bus and life resumed as normal.

She called me on Saturday. She had made her court date but not without incident. She told me that when she got off of the lightrail at one of her transfers she spotted Tempe Tavern across the street and decided to stop in for a drink. 6 hours later she was still there, her sister picked her up and dropped her off in detox then picked her up in the morning for court. She was now sober and we agreed to see a movie on Monday since she would be downtown to get her phone out of her car at the impound lot.

Monday rolls around and I hear from her. She's gotten her phone back and decided to celebrate at the bar, forgetting about our movie. I tell her I can't make it out as I am sick as a dog (true story) but within half an hour worry myself into an unbearable level of guilt and get on the lightrail to meet her at Tempe Tavern.

When i got there she was six beers in and had probably 5 more as I fended off the daytime regulars who were trying to take advantage of her inebriation, putting my arm around her and putting on my best tough guy face (thankfully I hadn't shaved in a week). I texted Garth and he comes down to have a beer then helped me get her the hell out of there. She agreed to go back to my place.

After about a half an hour she claimed her sister was coming to pick her up though based on the way she hid her phone while texting I can only assume the person who actually picked her up was someone who would buy her more drinks.

Three days later I get a call from her again. "Can I stop by?"

"Are you OK?"

"Yeah, sort of..?"

"Where are you?"

"Tempe Tavern. I just...Can I stop by?"

"I guess."

"I'll be there in an hour."

Two hours later and she isn't responding to texts and my phone calls are going straight to voicemail so despite still being sick I jump on my bike and go looking for her. Up to this point, I had been using the Tiny story to explain why I kept trying to help Goldilocks but as I was riding to look for her I had a pang of a familiar fear that I had forgotten about since childhood.

Growing up, my mom was a junkie. Meth. I never saw her use drugs and I never saw her high but that meant I also sometimes didn't see her for days at a time. I was a fearful and sensitive kid and often worried about what might be happening to people when I couldn't see them and was always afraid that my mom was dead until she would turn up again as though nothing had happened. My mom is cleaned up now and a great mom and I have come to terms with all of the past stuff and it usually isn't a big deal but I had somehow pushed this fear out of my memory. Suddenly it came to me sharply and I felt a bit ridiculous for using the dog story.

With some quick mental math, I found Goldilocks at one of the two bars that are within walking distance of the lightrail stop drinking beer with a friend who she said she had known for years and had met her at the lightrail stop. "Order a beer." she said.

"No thanks. I need to get home. I just wanted to make sure you were alive." and I rode away.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Online Dating: The Username.


I like online dating. I don't know why it has such a stigma attached. Looking at someone's online dating profile is like reviewing an application to date you. What could be better than that? You get to make sure they meet minimum requirements before inviting them in for an interview/ first date. You get to see their grammar and punctuation put to use if that sort of thing is important to you.

That being said, I don't think a lot of people really think through what their dating profile says about them. Case in point is the user name. A user name doesn't have to be spectacular. I doubt that there are that many people who has messaged someone then gave them wild sex and went on to marry them and have their babies based on their awesome OKCupid user name, but I for one, have avoided someone who had a bad one. Here are a real examples.

Givesgooddates - Does this name give anyone else dirty thoughts? How many guys is she giving good dates to? If she gives dates that are so good then why is she still single?

yanks4life - I am pretty sure she means to tell us that she's a big fan of the New York Yankees but we are all thinking about hand jobs now right? Come to think of it, that's probably less offensive than being a Yankees fan.

corrie1976-2011 - I checked her profile and it says nothing about her being dead so I have no idea WTF this means. She does use "LOL" 5 times in her profile, so maybe it's a joke I'm missing since she is obviously hilarious. Maybe the "LOL"s are masking the pain and the predicted date of her demise is a cry for help.

dreshatesyou - She hates me already? All I did was read her profile. Hating me from the onset only attracts me if we meet in real life.

Starting_Again4u, bubbly_4u, be4u4u, Thaea4u, Brn_eyed_Girl4u, etc. - I absolutely hate the inclusion of "4u" in user names. First of all I hate abbreviating words as letters and numbers (unless you happen to be Prince). I can understand for something you want to keep short like a dating profile user name but "4u"? 4 who? Is it 4 me? You don't know me. Maybe it's 4 everyone. Who are u 4?

tightlikespandex - Is she talking about... umm... ok.



Friday, May 6, 2011

Product Recommendation: Just a Drop

For my birthday back in November, my good friend Julia gave me a few little goodies. I believe that this one was meant as a gag gift but it has proved to be one of the most genius products I have come across.

What is Just a Drop? It's a courtesy flush in a bottle. I have a very small apartment and the bathroom is off of the kitchen. When you have a lady friend over and you are cooking for her, nature is not necessarily going to hold her call. Just a drop of Just a Drop into the toilet from the conveniently pocket-sized bottle pre-use holds in the odors. It's like something James Bond would have Q create.

I have since bought a second bottle for travel purposes to avoid the extra faux pas of wrecking someone else's bathroom. This shit is brilliant.

*Addendum -- I can't believe I forgot to mention this, but it comes with a handy little travel pouch. Classy!

Monday, March 14, 2011

Celibacy: Last Day

BEWARE THE IDES OF MARCH.

I am aware that my celibacy is a slightly short month... like a February. Black history and celibacy get the short end of the stick on this one, but the symbolism of Valentine's day to the Ides of March is too good to mess with.

Tomorrow is the Ides of March. The date Julius Caesar was stabbed and killed. I don't know about killing, but ladies, beware the Ides of March because some stabbing is bound to go down. Heyo.


Monday, March 7, 2011

Celibacy: Day 21

I'm sure you're all wondering how the date went and I am sure you are wondering because you're concerned about my general well-being and happiness and not because you are the type to stop and photograph a train wreck. You hope that it went well and that I maintained my celibacy, despite having a deep and meaningful connection with this girl. You all hope, in fact, that my celibacy simply strengthened our bond and opened my eyes to the path to love. Right?... Liars. You're all full of shit.

I should start by pointing out something that I learned about OKCupid and the graph in my last post. It wasn't a graph of her compared to me, it was a graph of her compared to the average OKCupid user so my last entry was full of some bullshit and I retract, correct and apologize.

The date went fine, though awkwardly. She was even prettier in person which of course turned me in to a bumbling idiot, but I managed to keep my shit together for the most part. She taught me to play an Italian card game called Scopa. We played cards and chatted over coffee. Nothing of note to the positive or negative.

Normally if a first date goes well I will go in for the kiss. If it doesn't go well, I will go in for the kiss anyhow because what have I got to lose? Certain things can throw this off like a borderline OK date with a girl I'd like to see again and celibacy.

I was clever and charming with some post date texting, securing a second date. But then...

By Monday i was firming up a movie and some drinks when I got an email from her giving me the whole "in full disclosure." Apparently a casual relationship she had been in went beyond casual over the weekend (I have that effect on women). Anyhow, we decided to do the movie anyhow, just with the good ol' "as friends" tacked on.

I didn't receive much lady advice growing up but one thing than was instilled in me was "bitches be crazy."

Yours Celibately,
Me

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Celibacy: Day 17 - Date

I'm a sex on the first date kind of guy. Not one of those guys who dumps a girl who won't put out on the first date, but I'm nothing if not a man of passion and most of my best relationships have started with first date sex. I have no qualms about it and have been known to get stuck in the friend zone when it doesn't happen that way.

I have a date this afternoon with a girl from OKCupid who is rather adorable and innocent looking. Then I clicked the tab that shows this graph.

For those of you who don't know, OKCupid has a bunch of questions that you can answer about various topics to determine your personality so that it can compare you with easy to read graphs. The one here shows which personality traits she is rated higher than me on and by how much. More sex-driven, passion-driven, kinky, experienced in sex and sloppy?! How is that even possible? I am in for a world of hurt.

I am now pouring a little Bailey's in my coffee and hoping that you'll join me in toasting day 18 of celibacy.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Celibacy: Day 16- Still At It.

I haven't posted in a few days and you all thought that meant I had failed didn't you? Well I didn't. The force is strong with this one. Nature did however handle the problem on its own but I will spare you the details since for the people that I know, this blog is gross enough as it is, but it was then that I realized (Have you ever noticed Carrie Bradshaw says that in every single episode of Sex and the City?): Celibacy is a load of shit.

I didn't realize that celibacy is a load of shit in definite terms yet. It just hasn't really done what I expectected. In fact, it has done the opposite. Instead of clearing my head and allowing me to concentrate my energies on things besides sex, it just makes me think about it more. It's the slingshot effect. The more I try to pull myself one way, the farther I am going to shoot the other.

On day 13, I thought I was going to lose it. I was going a little nuts and was starting to worry about the effects, but when mother nature gave me the happy ending package, I felt clear headed (pun intended) again. I will give it the additional 2 weeks mostly because I want to prove that I can do it but also because it may make differences in things that I haven't experienced yet in my 16 days of celibacy. For instance, I have a first date tomorrow.. with a very attractive young lady.. who I will not have the sex with...

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Celibacy: Day 13

Forgive me blog-readers for I have sinned. It has been 2 days since my last confession. I have had impure thoughts. Lots and lots of impure thoughts.

Celibacy has suddenly gotten really difficult (difficult, because h**d is on my list of banned words for the next 2 weeks). I have hit the celibacy wall and can only hope that my celibacy second wind is arriving (C**ing is also banned) soon.

Several friends have been trying to trip up my celibacy. Sending sneaky links to pornography, Rick Roll style, emailing me pictures of their lovely lady lumps, sending flirtatious or outright dirty messages and even going as far going full tonsil hockey on me in public places have all up until now been enjoyable and no threat. I was too strong for such temptations to phase me. But suddenly, last night, things got real.

I had three ladies trying to trip me up at once, one just for the sake of doing so and 2 who legitimately wanted some celibacy breaking action and somehow they struck the right chords and I felt tempted. I felt beyond tempted. Fucking A, I felt like Charlie Sheen in a room full of hookers wearing panties made out of cocaine. But I made it. I went all Jesus in the desert. I was like "Get thee behind me Satan!" except that is was more like "I will look at your tits but I am not going to touch myself, woman!" It's real difficult being me.




Friday, February 25, 2011

Celibacy: Day 11

How do lesbians know when they are done having sex? Don't give me that "When both of them orgasm" bullshit. One will cum quicker and then the other will be worked up again by the time the other is done, or one is going to be incredibly difficult to get off and then one person is doing 65% more work then the other every time the sex goes down. How do they know when they are done?

What have I gotten out of celibacy? My first hickey. I'm almost 30 years old for Christ's sake; it's embarrassing. I find hickeys tacky but apparently they happen?

I went and saw a Japanese movie about bugs at the new FilmBar downtown with a special lady friend (The Artist) and back to her place. Japanese bugs are a major turn on so, 4 hours of making out ensued, because how the hell do you know when you are done making out? It is an infinite activity. There is no easy point to say, "OK, I'm sick of kissing you, I'm going home." It's like petting a dog more than petting a cat. A cat lets you know when the petting is over but a dog will let you pet him forever and he gets all awkward about it when you stop. Frustration.

At least she gets to do something about it when I leave.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Celibacy: Day 10 Super Power

"Aren't you worried about your prostate?"

"I think my prostate can handle a month."

"I thought an abrupt change was what was bad for it, but what do I know? I don't even have one."

I think I finally figured out the purpose of my celibacy. Freud called it "sexual sublimation". Refraining from sex causes the energy to be redistributed into other areas. For me, it has done something amazing. I now have a super power. X-ray vision. Either that or it is some kind of national holiday where women celebrate their ability to vote by wearing see through shirts because bra burning is so passe. Either that or my imagination has really taken off on over-drive.

I will become a super hero. Celibate man. Buddy from Charles in Charge can play me in a TV show on the Christian channel and battle my arch nemesis Camel Toe.

I want someone to spend some time with me and tell me if it my imagination that more women are smiling at me these days and flirting more. I think my penis is sending out distress signals in a frequency that they can hear. "Help me. I am being held prisoner."

Shut up penis.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Celibacy: Day 9

Celibacy is making me soft. Um, let me rephrase that. Celibacy is making me sentimental and a bit nostalgic. I have been thinking fondly of exes and found a pinch of hope for love in the future that has been laying dormant for awhile.

Not in the way everyone wants to hear. It isn't a huge difference and it isn't going to end in me outside of anyones window with a boombox or serenading with a song that is just obscure enough to be clever and just well-known enough to induce nostalgia. Then again it has only been 9 days.

It's the whole process though. Mostly it is people asking why I am doing this and I still have no answer. It makes you think about things. Celibacy is boring.

One thing that I have noticed is that being celibate, and having people know about it, opens conversation to sex. Mostly in the "30 days is nothing, I am currently on day [fill in he blank]" kind of way. This leads to the question of why they are on day [fill in the blank] and then questions of masturbation, relationships, casual sex.

I have a friend who has a husband in the military. He is deployed for months at a time and currently for a year. She has never owned a vibrator of any kind and runs 6 miles a day. I found her one on sale on the internet.

I know a guy who isn't a fan of sex, but masturbates a lot. I know a girl who has scheduled sex with her husband on Thursdays. I know a girl who will not give head because she is afraid that she is too good at it and her boyfriend will never want anything else.

I have friends who don't enjoy sex. Some of them do it anyhow to please their partners, some of them had traumatic experiences to turn them off of it, some are far too old to have never had good sex and yet here they are.

You can learn a lot from celibacy, I guess.



Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Celibacy: Day 8

I am starting to worry about the health implications of short term celibacy. My testicles ache and I can't say that I have been completely flaccid since waking up. Is it possible to sustain a celibacy injury?

Several people have asked me if a wet dream would count against me in my experiment. Absolutely not. I can't control that and it is therefore no testament against my will-power. I should, however, point out that I have never had one. It feels a little late in life to start but at this point I feel as though it may prevent serious medical side effects.

On that note, if you are an attractive woman and I know you, it is entirely possible and likely that I had a dream about you last night. Yeah.

I am aware that I am a freak-show right now, for most of the hand-full of people who read this blog, so if you have any questions, post them on the comments or hit me up on twitter (@natron602) and I will gladly answer them here.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Celibacy: Day Seven

Celibacy is hard (people love to use the word hard when talking about my celibacy). One week is long enough to have justification to bitch, right? What kind of fucking moron could be having sex and isn't? I am not even morally against sex in any way or form whatsoever.

Have sex before marriage; I don't give a shit. Lord knows you won't be having any after (according to popular situation comedies). Have sex with men, women, men and women, yourself, your ex-girlfriend and farm animals if they find a way to give consent. First date, after marriage, with strangers or for money. I don't care. Use toys, restraints, whips, swings, special pillows, handcuffs, nipple clamps and cock rings. No judgement here. Blow up dolls, Real Dolls, dildos, Fleshlights, glory-holes, a hole drilled in a melon or a pie. Go for it. Doggy style, froggy style, missionary, 69, butterfly, cowgirl, reverse-cowgirl, lotus. It's all good. Have sex in a house with a mouse, in a box with a fox, here there anywhere. I don't care.

Just remember: there's no sex in the champagne room or with me for the next 3 weeks, because I am a fucking moron.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Celibacy: Day Six

And on the sixth day god created man and a woman for him to look at naked and have sex with because the internet wasn't invented yet and masturbation was still pretty new and not much fun without boobs to look at.

"You should ask my sister out." Said my barista. "I told her about your thing though."

Is celibacy a character flaw, even if only for a month?

"This guy would be awesome except.. well, there is one thing... He doesn't masturbate. Not for a month anyhow. First time after may be dangerous. Steer clear."

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Celibacy: Day Five

There are a lot of really nice asses at the coffee shop this morning.

It is kind of nice to not have to delete my browser history every morning.

Is this woman coming on to me?

Do you realize that Jailhouse Rock is about prison sex and Whole Lotta Love is about Robert Plant's cock?

Friday, February 18, 2011

Celibacy: Day Four. Role Reversal.

I had a date with that special lady friend last night; the one who was pissed off when I started this whole celibacy bit. First of all: she is still pissed.

We started watching Into The Wild at her place, but the main character was a little bitch who I was hoping would get eaten by a polar bear or some kind of mutant salmon or something and then the DVD hit a scratch and wouldn't play anymore so we made out instead.

I very purposely left kissing as an available option in my sex abstinence. One reason is because I like kissing and didn't want to give it up. The other reason is it adds to the challenge of it. The third reason is to mix it up and see what happens. Let's face it, the lines of my rules are pretty blurred. Basically I guess I am not allowed to get or give orgasms.

Making out, when you know it can't lead to sex, brings the magic of making out back. I was able to be in the moment and just enjoy the kissing. I felt like a teenager again, until...

...I felt like a teenage girl. She made a move. Yeah, she tried to break my will. You know...she reached for it...and I had to stop her. The role reversal was mind-blowing. Usually when a man makes out with a woman he is constantly pushing limits. We kiss and kiss and wonder "Can I put my hand there?" or "will she stop me if I take that off?" and so forth. We are velociraptors testing the electric fence for a weak spot.

Last night, I was on the other end. I started to have to constantly be aware of where her hands were and what she was trying to do so I could stop her when she went to far. Now I know how women feel (or get felt). There is a certain power in play here. Being the one who controls the sex. Saying no! Who would've thought?

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Celibacy: Day Three

Scotch and celibacy don't mix. Last night, I attended a Scotch tasting put on by The Macallan. Eden Algie is the Brand Ambassador or some such thing. Basically he gets to drink with people and talk about Scotch, which as far as I'm concerned is the best job that ever existed unless Salma Hayek had a nipple fluffer on set of From Dusk Till Dawn.

If you ever have a chance, I highly recommend that you take part in one of these tastings, unless you happen to be practicing celibacy (OK even then do it, but do it with caution). Have you ever had a night where all you drank was good, single-malt scotch? Eden Algie, god bless him, served us 10 year (x3), 12 year, 15 year and 18 year (x2) Macallan all for free.

Good Scotch tends to bring about a jovial happy drunk. It makes me happy, nostalgic and amorous. Throw in the Macallan girls in tight black dresses and we could have had a real catastrophe if I weren't so strong of mind and will.

That's right, made it through another day. I had a friend tell me that this would be like a detox, and that I would eventually get very clear minded and it would be amazing. Apparently, soon after that you go completely insane.

Most women are not impressed by the 30 day time frame. Ladies, sex time with men and women works like dog years. Maybe worse. Definitely worse.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Celibacy Day Two

Confession: After the breakup with "The Vet" (veterinarian for those not in the know) I started smoking again. Not as much as I had previously but smoking nonetheless.

You know how sometimes you decide to do the dishes, but then you are on a roll so you wipe the counters and mop the floors too? I haven't had an orgasm or a cigarette in 2 days. What is wrong with me?

Day two is actually not too bad on either front, though.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Celibacy: Day one

I understand that it's only the morning of day one; technically not even 12 hours in to my celibacy, but you know how on the first day of a diet all you can do is think about cake and cookies? Then the cookies are wearing a cute new skirt, and the cake has had her hair done and you know you shouldn't be going crazy but you are.

I have already hit two major snags actually. First snag is that a certain lady friend of late is a bit upset that i didn't let her know about this experiment in enough time for a last hurrah. That sort of thing tends to piss women off in my experience. In my experience I mean this one time, obviously. This is just a sign that I have taken the power back. The power of being the sex decider. Women have controlled it for ages. It is bound to ruffle some feathers when you have a transfer of power this big.

Snag number two was completely unforeseen. If you are dating, but not looking for a relationship, sex becomes the buffer. Sex is the reason or excuse for being with someone. Take that out of the equation and what is left? Holding hands, watching movies, kissing, cuddling, but without the sex...

What will happen? Will this change expectations? All the stuff leftover, is strangely more relationship-like than sex. This could be dangerous ground.

The best part about celibacy is that women want to make out with you and touch you inappropriately to try and fuck up your game. The worst part is you can't do shit about it. It's like staring at a cake while you eat a carrot.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Celibate Good Time, Come On!


I was raised in the LDS church...you know, the Mormons...anywho...The Mormon church is one of those "no sex before marriage" religions (and yes those holes count too). Because of this, I didn't lose my virginity until I, though still in high school, was of legal age to do so, (with my older, college girlfriend [go me]). I know that isn't exactly super old, but I felt like everyone else had done it and I was missing out on my youthful, consequence-free, sexual debauchery. After college-girl and I broke up, I sortof tried to make up for lost time.

I am not the most attractive, charming or intelligent man in the world, but I am attractive charming and intelligent so I do aight. The idea of a trial period of celibacy recently popped into my head. 30 days. Before you get all up in arms about how easy this should be keep in mind that:
  1. I am getting some.
  2. My celibacy will include denial of the art of self pleasure.
I brought up the idea with my good buddy Wayne. Tears running down his face from laughing, he said "You have got to do it." Wayne likes to see me suffer.

I brought up the idea with the person I am currently getting some from and she asked, "Why are you doing this?" and I realized that I didn't really have an answer.

"It would give me something to write about in my blog," doesn't feel like a sufficient answer and it crossed my mind before I considered writing about it. So why do it?

I guess originally it was just an idea for an experiment. What would happen? Could I do it? How would my mood and day to day change? The more I thought about it, the more I wondered about the changes it could cause.

It frees up some time right? I don't mean in an "I spend 8 hours a day engaged in sexual activity" sort of way, but the preoccupation of sex is a time consumer. Even masturbation you have to get out your tissues, set up the computer, get comfortable, find appropriate material online and then just as you are about to be done with it, the materials get unsexy and you have to find something worthy of the grande finale. What a chore!

OK this is a slight exaggeration but truly the effort that I put in to the general idea and practice of sex could be well spent elsewhere. My life is a mess and I know it so I want to see how concentrating my efforts away from sex will affect my actions.

Also how will it affect my dating? I have had relationships started and ended because of sex. I have had relationships based purely on sex and relationships where the sex ran out.

Sounds a bit extreme for 30 days of no sex, but truly, I enjoy the sex. I do OK with the ladies. I have the sex more than once a month. I masturbate. Regularly. *GASP*

"You have to do it from Valentine's to the Ides of March!" Wayne says, "Think of the symbolism of ending on the anniversary of a famous stabbing!" Wayne really likes seeing me suffer.

So, starting tomorrow, my experiment in celibacy begins. If nothing else it should provide amusement at my misery. Ideally I find a zen like mastery of myself and take over the world. What the fuck am I thinking? *sigh*


Monday, January 31, 2011

The Frog and the Scorpion


There was this scorpion who wanted to get across the river but he couldn't swim, so he asked a frog to carry him across on her back.

The frog refused because surely the scorpion would sting her and she would drown.

The scorpion explained that if he were to sting her while carrying him, they would both drown so, surely, she would be safe so the frog agreed.

Halfway across the river, the scorpion stung her.

"Why did you sting me? Now we will both die!" cried the frog.

The scorpion replied. "I am a scorpion; it's my nature and you always knew I was a scorpion."

A few weeks ago my friend Wayne and I sat in my favourite coffee shop having a deep, introspective conversation (like we like to do) and the subject inevitably turned to women and dating (as our conversations are prone to do). Wayne is a few years older than me and a beacon of knowledge for my quest to understand life, particularly in the arena of dating. Sometimes when I am on a date and my confidence starts to waiver, Wayne's voice comes to me Jedi Yoda style. Anywho.

Wayne was telling me about the time in his life after his marriage had ended (as they tend to do) when he finally felt ready to date again. He went on a few dates and really hit it off with the third girl he dated. They became serious and dated for 8 months before he realized he just couldn't do it anymore.

Wayne is a straight shooter and an introspective sort of guy and looking at the situation he couldn't find anything wrong with the girl. He knew it was all him (how cliche of Wayne right?), and it was then that he realized..."Being ready to date and being ready for a relationship are not the same thing." (Imagine Wayne as a Jedi ghost for full effect).

After being in a relationship for a year and a half following a much shorter relationship which pretty closely trailed a two year relationship I have recently started dating again but am not ready for a relationship (ooh a guy who won't commit, how original!).

I went out a couple of times with this hairstylist. She was an ex Mormon like me, fun, attractive and all that jazz. I am a pretty upfront guy, so I told her I wasn't ready for a relationship yet but we continued hanging out and then...for two weeks I was pretty busy and couldn't see her. I started getting messages from her saying things like "I just wish I could find a way to keep your attention," and, "I thought we really had something." You know, girl stuff that they think is going to convince you to love them and/or give them the answer to all of their dating woes.

I know for a fact that I told her that I didn't want anything serious because I asked her during the exit chat. This happens to me over and over again. I know some guys will pretend they want more to get in a girl's pants but most of us are upfront about things.

So do you want to know the answer to the dating woes? Shit, so do I, but what I do know is this: If you don't want to be stung, don't date a scorpion.


[Give me some insight here. Why does this happen so often? Comments appreciated.]









Monday, January 24, 2011

The Art of Wiping


I only set one new-year's resolution this year. That resolution is that for all of the year 2011, I will use nothing but toilet paper as toilet paper. This might sound like an easy one to keep but I think my fellow bachelors can relate.

The timing of the end of toilet paper to making it to the grocery store is a tough one to master especially when on a budget so tight that TP purchases aren't always possible. Let's face it, if anything is more important than TP it's rent. Add dating and the excessive amount of toilet paper that women seem to go through (despite the fact that girls don't poop) and we are talking logistical hell.

I don't skimp on toilet paper either. I once met a guy on the way to the dumpster of my old apartment. He was rocking his stunna shades with a wife-beater and holding up his sagging pants as his trash bag fell apart. His girl could be heard screaming from the apartment, "Hurry your black ass up! I told you to take that trash out yesterday!"

As I helped him pick up his trash I explained to him that the two things I don't go cheap-brand on are trash bags and toilet paper (There are actually three but we weren't at a stage in our friendship where I felt comfortable discussing condoms). A light bulb went off for my new friend and he cried out "You right man! How you gonna be a player if you aint got some decent toilet paper?!" and then in response to his girlfriend's calls from the apartment, "How you gonna be a player if you aint got decent trash bags?!" I taught him a valuable lesson that day.

No mater how picky I am about my toilet paper (I like Charmin Extra Strong. Give it a try. You'll thank me.) I always seem to mistime my Costco trip and have to scramble for paper products to "take care of the paperwork" so to speak.

There is no greater desperation than that of a man out of toilet paper. In desperation I have used the following substitutions:
  • Paper towels - If you have to substitute, paper towels are what you hope for. They are the closest household product to TP.
  • Fast food napkins - Second best bet. Fast food restaurants are cheap so the paper quality isn't great but it does the job somewhat comfortably.
  • Fast food wrappers - You don't want to go there if you can avoid it. If you have to, tear it into strips to make sure you have enough.
  • Newspaper - It's gonna leave ink smudges on your ass.
  • Coffee filters - Cause and effect; one product. It's the circle of life.
  • A sock - Your first thought will be to figure out how to wash it but just throw it out. You don't want to be reminded of the shame every time you come across it's mate so throw if out too.
I could probably make the list longer but you get the idea. You could argue that using only toilet paper as toilet paper is a symbolic goal, that it represents growing up and being responsible, but I am just sick of wiping my ass with coffee filters.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Girls Don't Poop


True story. The fairer sex has a special enzyme produced by their kidneys that breaks down food solids into a liquid state so that it can be passed from the system as urine. That's why they pee so much. It's science!


The Good, The Bad and The Ugly


Everyone thinks they are the good guy. I have found this to be the underlying principal of what little I understand about relationships and even more so, break-ups. No one thinks of themselves as the supporting character or the villain in the story of their lives. No. Everyone thinks they are the good guy even when they know they have done bad things. This is the theory behind the "Good Guy Complex."

The idea of always being the good guy actually does a lot of good. For one, it's a self preservation tactic. If you thought you were the villain all the time, you would probably either feel really bad about yourself or be one really fucked up human being trying to turn Smurfs into gold or something. Think about it.

The "Good Guy Complex" can also keep people on the straight and narrow. Many good things have been done, not out of the goodness of the heart, but to maintain the good guy image. Think about how bad the political system would be if politicians had to rely on their morals to make good choices instead of their image to the voting public.

The "Good Guy Complex" reaches into all facets of life and relationships. As an example, I was recently involved in a break-up where I didn't feel that I had done anything to particularly harm this girl (Then again, maybe it's just the "Good Guy Complex" talking) but things weren't going swimmingly either and she was faced with a decision of whether to move cross country or not. She made the right choice in going but what should have been a relatively drama-free, amicable break up, turned into a shit show of shouting matches and name calling. It is my belief that in order to be the good guy, she had to create a bad guy. What would Superman do if there was no Lex Luthor, after all? If I wasn't with her, I was against her and since she was naturally the good guy in her version of the story, that made me the bad guy.

The "good guy complex" can make people do shitty things. Barry Bonds doesn't know that he is the bad guy. Richard Nixon famously told David Frost (and the world watching on television) during an interview "When the president does it, that means it's not illegal." What Nixon was saying is "I am the good guy." The "Good Guy Complex" is a vehicle for justification.

"Thou shalt not kill." is pretty much the most unarguable commandment regardless of religion but no one bats an eyes when James Bond kills. Do you know why? Because he is the good guy; he has a license for that shit.

Have you ever been in a relationship that has gone on much longer than it should have? It was probably because both of you were waiting for the other person to fuck up so you could get out with an unscathed good guy status. Even if it ended because you did something wrong, I'll bet you figured out how to be the good guy in your own mind. "I only cheated on her because she was constantly such a raging bitch/ never put out/ the marriage was loveless and I love the new girl."

The world is not black and white. Lines are blurred. Shit happens.