Scared Bunny

I have come to a conclusion. There were some wild people in the Bible.

I was bored and there was one of those Mysteries of the Bible shows on. This one was about Jacob. You remember him. He scammed his father, got tricked in to marrying the wrong woman, and banged her anyway. Married her sister. Banged her too. Wrestled with an angel. Had a freaky ladder dream. Yeah, that guy.

So anyway, here is the fun part. After he gets tricked in to marrying the wrong woman, and then bangs her THEN he goes to complain to her dad and the chick he planned on marrying. Either he did her from behind and never saw her face or, more likely, he was just a guy and said, “Ehh…she’s here. What the hell.” But he does work out a deal with the dad, where he gets the other sister too! But that is not where the kinkiness ends.

This first wife is having kids left and right, but the wife he really wanted isn’t having any. So, she decides to take matters in to her own hands and sends him her servant to bang. The servant gets pregnant. The first sister doesn’t want to be outdone, so she sends in her servant too. Yup…he taps that ass. Meanwhile he’s also banging both the sisters, who both eventually get pregnant too. In short, he’s got at least 4 chicks he’s banging. Normally I am opposed to multiple wives outside of my cult because it just means more headaches.

But this guy had it right. The 2 sisters kept competing with each other, so there’s no way they are going to gang up on him. And the other 2 chicks are servants, so he doesn’t have to take any shit from them or he sells them to some wrestling promoter or something. And you have to love any woman who, to get back at her sister, tells you to screw some other hot chick. Can’t be getting all jealous or nothing. You just now there was some freaky ass shit going on in those tents.

The only thing that worries me in the whole scenario is that dad seemed pretty desperate to get the sisters married off. Yeah, Jacob had to work for 7 years each for them, but that older sis must have been pretty nasty. Back then they could have multiple wives so prime chicks got snatched up fast. If he had to trick some dude in to marrying her, she must have been some real prize. I suppose it’s possible Jacob was just such a great worker that dad was willing to sacrifice 2 hot babes to get him, but it’s not like he was the coach of the Lakers and Jacob was Kobe or anything. I am thinking that the sis had like a goiter or something. But the younger sis must have been hot because not only did Jacob do 14-years work to get her, he didn’t kill her dad for tricking him, which is amazing.

Maybe Jacob knew all along and he also knew that the 2 sisters were so jealous they’d end up buying him sex slaves and he figured, while 14 years for 2 chicks is not a great deal, 14 years for 4 of them is a pretty good deal. Personally I look at the whole thing as lame because he didn’t get any action with them while he worked, so unless he had some on the side he was celibate for 14 years. I don’t know how that could have worked since he was always around them and their dad, but I guess it’s possible. Jacob could have been a master player. Hell, maybe he already had some wives and was just looking to get some younger chicks. Unfortunately for him, by the time he got the one he wanted she was 14 years older too, at which point her value had to be a lot less. I mean, it sounds great to get a 21-year-old, and you may decide to work for 14 years to get her. But then she’s 35 by the time you get her, and suddenly it’s not as good a deal.

I also have a confession. I had another date, with one of the contenders mentioned a while back. Unfortunately it went well. That means I can’t write about her until she goes psycho, shaves my dog and tries to steal my microwave. Don’t get me wrong. There have already been things that happened that would be worthy of a story but, alas, I like this girl. And those things make a good story were also very good things. Very good. So, the story stays with me, and I fear my adventures may not be updated for some time.

Since I am short of my own drama to share, I give you this:

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=6318381037414435530&q=wrestling+crying

I have to say something. If you are a white guy planning on pretending to be a Navajo (or Dine, if you prefer) so you can write books you claim are autobiographical, but actually have no basis in reality, you need to not keep a blog with your real name and history. It also doesn’t help if you use pictures of your real kids that you have also tied to your real name in posts and web sites.

Yeah, yet another fuckhead tried to get away with making up an entirely fictional past and pass it off as real. I know there has been a lot of talk about the guy whose book Oprah pimped that made most of the shit up. But at least he didn’t make up his name, race and several adopted children. To my knowledge he didn’t write about being raped by his father as if it were some kind of homoerotic fantasy (which is what this fucktard used to write).

What I don’t get is why these guys, who are supposedly great writers, and clearly have good imaginations, don’ just write fiction in the first place. Well, I guess I understand it when you have pissed off most of the publishing community. But if you are a white guy, at least make up a white fake identity. Quit ripping off the Native Americans. I don’t care how much money you lost playing their slots.

I do not get people that put their whole life on the net, with their real name and pics of themselves and their kids. I can see doing it with basic boring shit, but this total honesty thing is just insane if you are going to use your name so some schmuck reporter can Google your name and find you in 3 minutes. I understand it if it takes real work, but these guys aren’t doing shit. These are people trained to write on an 8th grade level, and for most of them that is a stretch, but they find this shit because Google takes them right to it.

Plus, they forget that Google and other services cache all these pages. Morons delete their blogs or posts when they get caught and think that matters. Of course the fact that it’s all cached would bite them on the ass if they were rational, but they aren’t. They think people will believe that it’s all a huge conspiracy, including Google. Crazy people tend to have an easy time building conspiracies like that in their mind. Like, for example, how I know that George Bush really means me every time he says “Axis of Evil”.

Oh, and, yeah, I know this shit didn’t get posted last night. I was busy. Yes, it was the type of thing that could end up here too. I have a candidate with potential. Last night we were chatting and she wanted to come over, but she couldn’t. Yeah, she’s the one that just lost a job so she had a job interview this morning. Now, I was willing to have her come over, because I am not stupid, but she had to be conscientious. Unfortunately that postpones us until next week.

I have to mention something she said though: “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

But she also raises an issue I have to mention. That is this recent trend of women who get long hair cut short, making their heads look round. I am not going to again point out that most guys prefer long hair. Instead, I am going to say this. If you have a round face, do NOT get a round haircut. Even though you weigh what you weighed before it was cut, you look 20 pounds heavier. I do not care what Cosmo or your stylist says it is not a good look. Unless you are some kind of methhead, do you really want to look 20 pounds heavier? I know I don’t, and I’m not even a chick.

Plus it creates this really awkward situation. You know you want the guy in your life, if there is one, to say it looks good. But you also hate it when a guy lies to you. So that means we either have to lie to you or hurt your feelings. Most of us don’t want to do either of those things. Some guys do, but I know I really don’t. But if I tell you your new haircut makes you look heavy, you are going to get pissed. Then I won’t get any and we all hate that.

And, seriously, if you have made that kind of drastic change to your appearance, don’t use the old long hair shot as your main pic on your ad. It is just asking the guys to be disappointed. Yeah, I know the pic is only a year old. And that should be recent enough. But if you don’t look like that anymore, when you show up for the date you are going to see that look guys get when they expected something else. I know. I’ve been there. A nice guy will be gracious and finish the date, but he’s not going to go out with you again.

BTW…how come everyone says that they look better in person, and why do I never meet these people?

A while back I was reading a news story about how the government handles child molesters. See, once they are registered as a sex offender, there is still the issue of how you deal with them outside of prison. One thing they have to do is track how their therapy is going. Now, the point of this post isn’t to discuss how there isn’t really any evidence works, so just skip that part. But how can you be sure?

Well, you could just ask their therapists, but even government officials know that most therapists are idiots. I am betting that the therapists that the government hires to do this shit are probably dumber that the average therapist. So they needed some other plan. There’s also the fact that, since these are government people, they want something they can measure, and your average therapy session just doesn’t have any sort of grades or measurements. So, since they have virtually unlimited budgets, our friends in the government decided to hire some scientists to come up with a test. (Government officials like scientists too.)

These scientists set out to find a way to do the testing, but one that could be really easy to do. See, the old tests were like the one’s I mentioned a long time ago to determine if bi men were really gay or straight. (If you’ve forgotten, 75% were actually gay, 25% were actually straight, and none of them were actually bi.) That old test had wires placed on penises and you show them pictures to see what gets them hard. The problem is that you can’t have the average government official attaching wires to perverts’ dicks. (Just look at what happens at airport security checkpoints!) So they had a better idea.

What they do now is they have the pervs sit at a computer (a place they feel very comfortably I bet). On the screen they show them pictures of people of various ages and have them rate their attraction. I am guessing they show people of the gender that the perv has issues with, but I can’t really confirm that because I don’t remember and I don’t feel like looking it up. What they have the perverts do is rate how attracted they are to the picture.

They, of course, know most of these guys are going to lie, so they aren’t really keeping track of that score. What they are doing is seeing how long they stare at the pic. The logic is they will stare at what they like. So, if the pic is someone 16 and above, they consider that OK. Below 16 and the guy is in trouble. (Yes, I know 16 is below the age of consent in many states, but the scientists say it’s perfectly normal to be attracted to a 16-year-old, so complain go them, not me.)

All of this sounds great until you consider one thing: If you know how the test works, you know how to beat it. I even hesitated posting this, but nobody reads this anyway, and the few that do were searching for something including the word “scared”. I figure that unless some molester is searching for “I am scared they are gonna find out I like little girls and send my ass back to jail where Buford is gonna rape me again” that my mentioning this isn’t going to be a problem.

I have to wonder how come nobody involved in the story figured out that telling everyone the trick in the test was not the best idea. But I guess that is the another problem with government officials and scientists. They really like it when someone listens to what they have to say. I swear Deep Throat only gave up the Watergate secrets because his wife didn’t listen to him. (Woodward and Bernstein were good listeners in their younger days.)

Well, I was going to discuss dating, but instead I must sleep. The sleep apnea mouthpiece came in and I have to start getting used to it. I pray it works because the machines blow.

I have finally figured something out.

I have mentioned many times that I have never been able to pick someone up at a grocery store. In some ways that’s not quite fair to say because I don’t really try. I am notorious for not being good at knowing when someone is interested in me, unless the make it painfully obvious. I am also insanely shy, and terrible at getting the courage to approach someone. But you would figure that with all the visits to the grocery store I would eventually have met someone. But, at no point have I even really tried.

Today I finally figured out why. I was in a rather crowded store and started noticing who was noticing me. I am not really sure what triggered the alertness, but it was there for once. And I noticed that the women that were watching me all had one thing in common: they were married.

Of course there were both women there with their husbands and women whose husbands were probably watching the end of the Steelers/Broncos game. And their reactions were kind of interesting. The women that were alone would pay attention until they realized I noticed. Then they would try not to notice me. The women there with husbands were a lot less subtle. They would basically make sure the guys didn’t notice, but they were a lot less concerned about me noticing them.

I am guessing that the difference is that the women with men with them knew there was no way I would approach them, whereas the women with no guy there had no such reassurance. Personally, once I see that ring there is no way I am going to ever overcome the shyness, so they can feel safe in knowing I won’t approach, assuming they read this and know who I am. Then again, the women without rings won’t get approached either.

It kind of sucks that unavailable women seem more interested in me. Granted, most of the women there were probably married. It is possible that I didn’t notice the single women. My theory on that is that they are single because they are subtler, and guys in general require very blatant signs. Guys tend to be either the type that will hit on anyone anywhere, or they are chickenshit like me and need an engraved invitation to approach a woman. So these women are single because they are too subtle for the male mind.

By the way, I want to create a Dennis Miller drinking game. Every time he says “I don’t know about you, but…” everybody chugs.

In case you were wondering, I haven’t been putting much effort in to the personal ads. This is largely because it is hard to be active and yet also play somewhat hard to get. It’s already hard for a guy to play hard to get because, by our nature, we are not hard to get. Basically you offer it to us and we will take it. And on the personals you have this little problem that you have to approach them first because they don’t know you’re playing hard to get otherwise.

That is the basic flaw in the plan. If you were to walk up to a woman and say, “Hello, I like you.” And then start ignoring her you wouldn’t be likely to get a date. You might get committed, but not a date. That is essentially what I have been trying. Perhaps this is not the best course of action.

Well shit. The Elvis cake contest is on Food network, which means it’s way past my bedtime. I have a massive headache I may have to try to sleep off, unless someone wants to come over and rub my temples.

OK, I watched a movie today instead of doing anything productive. Partially because when I woke up at 9AM it seemed too early to get up since I had no plans for the day. Then I rolled over and it was almost noon. I was considering getting up then, but somehow fell back asleep and the next thing I know it’s after 1. By the time I was moving and doing stuff it was 2. I suppose I could have done something productive, but once I had fixed the vacuum and done some cleaning, I had kind of decided that this was not going to be my day.

So I popped in the move Inside Deep Throat. In case you are wondering, no, it’s not porn. It’s a documentary about the porn movie, though. I’d heard it was a good doc, but it really wasn’t. I guess part of it is because I don’t buy a lot of the basic premises of the movie, and I don’t buy for a second that “Deep Throat was less about the joys of oral sex than it was about the freedom to speak out against shame and hypocrisy” Yeah, I hate censorship. I think it’s real funny that one of the guys they showed in a news show defending the prosecution was a guy that spent his whole life pretending he was straight and had even used homosexuality as a way to smear political enemies. But let’s get real.

I don’t buy for a second that the people that were making porn in 1972 were doing it out of some sort of desire to change society. The freaking female stars first lead role was in a movie called Dog Fucker, which is about a woman fucking a German shepherd. Everyone doing it did it for sex or money. Hell, the guys that made the movie needed funding and immediately went to guys in the mob. If I am trying to make a social statement, I would think that involving organized crime is probably going to blunt the impact.

But there were some funny things in the movie. My favorite was this old couple in Miami. He ran the kind of theaters in Florida where one would want to show Deep Throat. And he knew that to get the movies he had to do business with mob guys. So he did. But the whole time he is telling the story, his wife is in the next room yellng at him to shut up. She sounded convinced that, 30 years later, he was going to go to jail because he knew these guys. It was funny watching her basically telling her husband to keep his trap shut and that he shouldn’t be doing the interview. Then, later in the film, they are interviewing him again and his wife comes home and, once she sees what’s going on, starts yelling at him again. And he just totally takes it. He was so beaten down by a lifetime with this woman that he took everything she had to dish out. It was absolutely classic. Plus, I swear she could be my ex-wife’s grandmother. I have seen her yell at her husband like that. Of course he is going deaf and refuses to use a hearing aid, so it’s OK.

I also saw Cinderella Man. That kid from Gentle Ben sure is lucky his brother is Ron Howard so he can get those shitty little parts in all those movies.

I have come to the conclusion that the Internet has got to be the place all the crazy people hang out these days. I know we always picture the truly crazy as recluses, but the Internet allows them to be reclusive yet strangely social at the same time. The biggest indication for this is how people react when they are either banned from a web site or asked to leave. As soon as that happens they suddenly become even more active. One woman kept signing up on a site I go to with different names for weeks. She had at least 5 fake names, and even months, later people wonder if she’s still there, just hiding better. Another person there suddenly found the time to be very active after it was made pretty clear he wasn’t wanted. Now he’s there all the time, I guess waiting to finally be banned.

You see the same thing every night at Woot.com. If you aren’t familiar with Woot, they are a web site that sells one product at a time. At midnight Texas time they post a new product every night. It will be available until they sell out or for 24-hours, whichever comes first. And they have a forum for each item where people can comment or ask questions. Every night there are people who have to have their posting rights suspended because they have an uncontrollable urge to post “First Page!”. For these people, they have an uncontrollable desire to, for some reason, be among the first to comment.

The other strange group there are people that, if the item isn’t something they want, they have to post every night how shitty the product is. I will admit that most nights I am not the least bit interested in what they have. I do not, however, think that means I need to tell the world how bad it sucks, even if it does. Maybe I’m crazy, but it seems reasonable to me to assume someone else might want it. One guy keeps complaining that the product is lame and that they should sell a couch. I am not sure, but I have never seen anything even remotely like a couch on the site. I certainly wouldn’t stay up until midnight specifically to see if they might suddenly decide to sell a couch that night.

But I am glad the Internet is there. I can get my crazy people fix without dating crazy women. There’s no sex, but it’s still OK.

Yeah, I know there are people upset that I didn’t keep chasing that chick to see if I could get another freaky sex story, preferably involving anal. There are 2 problems with that. I think, in her world, freaky would consist of a blowjob. Second, I am really not interested in chasing her anyway. So to get what you want, I would first have to chase, then convince her that anal is what the wacky and wild chicks are doing. That’s a lot of work.

I have a theory I intend to try. That theory is that while women may like to be chased, they don’t intend to be caught by the guys that chase them. Being chased makes you feel wanted. But a guy that chases is going to be seen as a weak, and often pathetic, loser. It’s kind of like the way some women collect guys that are “just friends” that fawn all over them because they really want to be more than friends. They know they will never go out with those guys, and deep down they know what the guys are up to. But the attention seems addictive for some women.

So basically, while I will express an interest, I am not going to chase anyone. Yeah, I’ll try to be witty and hope they like my looks, but I just don’t see any reason to work and work to try to get a date. I just don’t think there is anything to gain really. Basically, I’ll be giving them an opportunity to express an interest. If they do, I follow up a little. If they don’t, I just let them be. Maybe my attitude will change after I get the mouth guard that is supposed to make my sleep apnea go away, but I kind of doubt it. It may be great for health and mood and all that shit. And I may have more energy. But I still also have 35 years of experience telling me that if you are going to start putting a lot of effort in to something, finding a woman is not the best choice. Maybe I’ll landscape the backyard, since it’s still like 70 fucking degrees around here.

By the way, I consider it real strange to have The Usual Suspects on the same channel as Queer Eye For The Straight Guy. I also condemn Bravo for showing us close-ups Kevin Bacon without appropriate makeup and grooming. He looks like shit.

Back to our original story. One interesting thing that has come out of recent events comes from a conversation I had with the ex I was considering dating. One of the things she has wanted for some time is to know the address of this blog. Of course I don’t give it to her. I already have to refrain from telling certain stories. I don’t want any more restraints. Hell, it’s hard writing every day without adding even more things I can’t say without risking more drama.

So while I did refuse to give her the address, I sis tell her about someone that has commented a few times. It’s a guy that runs a blog about prostitution. Specifically he writes about the prostitutes he sees. Of course, this is a good topic because it’s interesting. It has sex and it has more than it’s fair share of women who lead interesting lives. Plus he makes the women sound hot, which is always good. But what he has said in his comments is that I’d be better off just paying for sex.

Well, I told this ex that, and added an old saying, “There is no such thing as free sex. If it’s free, it’s not sex. And if it’s sex, it’s not free.” Financially speaking I am not sure on a cost per fuck I would have come out ahead by paying for it. But her reaction to what he said was interesting, because she actually agrees that one way or another, you pay for it. In her case, I paid with drama. In other cases it’s been cash and dram. Regardless, I have more than paid for what I got. But it surprises the hell out of me that she recognizes that.

While things between she and I could never work, I will say she is truly one of the coolest women I have ever known.

In other news, the guy that wrote “He’s Just Not That Into You” has a new book. This one is called “They Call It A Breakup Because It’s Broken”. Man, I haven’t read it. I didn’t read the first one either. But that is exactly what I have been saying. I can give you any number of reasons to get a lot of distance between you and an ex, but it gets right down to that. If it worked, you wouldn’t be broken up. I don’t even buy the idea you can still be friends. If you dated them, you were attracted to them. That means it wasn’t the physical part it was the emotional side. If you can really be good friends, then the emotional part would work. Basically, the only way the “still be friends” shit works is if you were dumb enough to date someone you weren’t attracted to. And it has to be both of you that did that, which just ain’t that likely.

I’m keeping that in mind for myself. Of course, I think most of my exes either are or should be committed, so it may not be as big an issue for me.

I was going to start writing this shit earlier. Then my friend Justin gave me this fucking addictive game to try out, and I lost track of time. It is things like that that explain why Justin is evil.

Regardless, I am going to hammer this shit out. See, I knew what I was going to write yesterday. Then I went on that date and had a change of heart. I hadn’t planned on writing about her because I kind of thought there was some potential. But I knew as soon as the date started that there was nothing at all. Then, of course, when she complained that most guys are shocked by her behavior I was able to keep from laughing, but I think she took the great concentration that took as a sign I wasn’t happy or something. Regardless, it made me change my mind and I wrote something else.

But it did have the same theme, which is that dating sucks.

Yesterday as I prepared for the date I realized I had to get read beyond showering, shaving and changing my clothes. The problem is, you also have to be ready just in case the date ends up back at your place. So, of course, I had to do a little cleaning. But, since I hate cleaning, I wasn’t going to go crazy with it. That means a lot of mental effort because you have to figure out what is a must clean and what is something that won’t matter. Yes, I did the bathroom and kitchen.

Then there’s the bed situation. In case you are wondering, not, guys do not make their bed every day. In fact, if a guy made his bed it means he really thought he had a good shot of getting you in said bed. So, if you go to a guy’s place on a first date and the bed is made, he thought you were doable. Personally I don’t consider that an insult, but you might. SO if you want to be pissed at him for thinking you are easy, go ahead. Of course, if you are in a position to see if the bed is made, you really don’t have much room to be mad, but that’s OK.

So I didn’t make the bed. I did kind of straighten it a bit, but that was all. I actually was in a bad position because I had planned to wash the sheets. But then I’d have to make the bed. And since a made bed says you think she’s easy, I couldn’t do that. As you can see, there was entirely too much thought necessary.

I also need a maid to come by again.

I think if I ever date again, I will try to have the date be within days of the maid stopping by. That will take care of most of it. I can mention the maid, so if the house seems too clean it is understandable. Of course that still leaves the bed issue unresolved, but you can’t have everything.

There’s another problem with your house being too clean. No, I don’t mean the impression that you are gay. It’s that women seem to want to be able to make your life better, and have something they can do for you. Now, if you’re a total fuck-up you can get the ones looking for a fuck-up. But I’m trying not to get the crazy one’s, so I think I’ll stick with “not a great housekeeper’. Plus, when women hear you have a maid they always seem to say they’ll clean your house for you.

What I wonder is why that doesn’t work for sex. If you were to say you had to have a hooker come over women would not immediately volunteer to fuck you. In fact, I bet it would make them not want to fuck you. But if a woman hears you can’t cook or clean for yourself, she wants to take care of it for you. Personally, while I like sex, I don’t like cooking or cleaning. So if I were to volunteer to help with something, it would be better to volunteer to fuck than to cook or clean

Of course, I’d also never get with a woman that was paying for sex.

I now understand why I was always a relationship guy. No, it’s not because of some deep-rooted need to make up for my parents’ failed marriage. It is not because of unresolved issues with my mother. It is not because of a desire not to be alone. It is not because I want regular sex. It is not even because I want someone who will do a better job of cleaning my house than I do. No, while all of those are very valid reasons for some people, none explains why I have always looked for relationships.

I do it because I hate dating.

Yes, I went on the first of the personal ad dates tonight. The only thing worse than dating is first dates. I am not saying this was a terrible date. I am not going to tell a horror story about it, because it wasn’t anything like that. But you take the awkwardness of a first date and combine it with someone that you just don’t have a connection with, and you are just not going to have a great time. Yeah, it wasn’t terrible, and it was nice to go out and eat with someone I’m not related to who doesn’t complain if there isn’t a playground or crayons.

I guess it didn’t help that she wanted to try to shock me a couple of times and was disappointed when it didn’t work. Makes a joke about dating girls? No big deal. I’ve dated bi chicks before. Joke about a stripper pole in her bedroom? Not exactly shocking if you’ve dated strippers. 2 large rum drinks with dinner? Heather would drink 5 massive margaritas with a snack. In short, she wanted someone that would be impressed with her wild nature, but she is far from wild by my standards.

That seemed to upset her because she is the wild member of her crew. So, if I have had experiences that make her behavior less than shocking, I must not be happy. You can’t be happy if you have dated crazies. Fact is, I wasn’t happy; because I knew almost instantly this thing was going nowhere. One good thing about dating a stranger, though, is that a date with her that doesn’t work out doesn’t guarantee you have drama to deal with, and the loss of access to women you know that she will talk to. Plus, you can just be yourself and get out of there as soon as possible.

So now I understand why I always go for a relationship, so I can stop dating. But I now also understand why guys try to nail every chick they date.

The first reason is that you really feel like you earn it after a bad date. For a woman, at least her consolation from a bad date is that she got a free meal or whatever out of the deal. I was sitting there at dinner, trying real hard not to watch the basketball game over her shoulder, realizing that, while I am not interested in her, I would have, had the opportunity presented itself, slept with her. I wasn’t going to pursue it, but I really felt the time I had spent to this point would have made doing it OK if she had offered.

I don’t think paying for dinner entitles me to anything. Not even the 2 hours of less than stellar conversation means an entitlement. But it’s real easy to say to yourself, “Yeah, she’s far from ideal, but it would be nice to get something out of this night.”

So, I got the first one out of the way. I don’t see any way we’ll go out again. I’m not in to her and she’s not in to me.

But I’d still do her.

“I am not a blonde bimbo, I have a brain and I nice pair of these (tits) to match.”

OK, I know it’s Elimidate, but I swear I have known women like that. (I am pretty sure I never dated that particular woman though. She didn’t look familiar at all.) I will admit that it drives me fucking nuts when a woman acts like a tramp, presents herself like a tramp and then wants to be treated as something other than a tramp. You can tell me all you want about men objectifying women and women having to use sex to get ahead, but it’s still a choice. I could get ahead by blackmailing my boss with pictures of him with midget hookers, but that doesn’t make it right.

I used to work with a lady who was in her mid0-thirties. She was very attractive, and generally dressed fairly conservatively, but showed just enough to get her male bosses hard. Well, she told me a story about how she had gone to work out and had been wearing a leotard which basically left her ass cheeks hanging out. Apparently her boss came in and she said she was incredibly embarrassed. Now, once I stopped wishing I had walked in too, I started wondering why she felt the need to have her ass hanging out in a gym where she knew coworkers might be.

The really strange thing is that most women I know tell me that women don’t dress for me, but instead dress for other women. I am not sure what that says about women that dress like tramps, but if I can get it on video tape I’ll be a millionaire.

OK, I have a question. How, exactly, am I supposed to keep all these contacts straight from personal ads? It’s a hard enough remembering what profile goes with what name, but then there are real names, other chat ID’s. It’s a pain in the ass. I can seriously see this getting me in a shitload of trouble if I don’t figure something out. It’s much worse than it was last time. I can’t remember enough to know if there are more candidates this time or if I am just getting senile. I am thinking of starting my whole Alzheimer’s plan early. It not only gives me an excuse, it could work for sympathy.

That reminds me. I love the movie Saved!, but I have to wonder how effective it would have been to tell the hot girls from church growing up that I thought I was gay.

Oh, and if you came here from Team Wilco, thanks. Sorry I don’t have any glowing pigs, or pics of Scarlet Johansen. It is not that I am opposed to either. In fact, Scarlet may very well supplant Charlize Theron as my number one fantasy. That Golden Globes dress really looked nice. If you look through the archives you will find some pics of midget athletes, if that counts for anything. Hell, that search thing on the left might help you find them. I could look myself, but I’m fucking tired.

The sleep shit may get better. I discovered an interesting fact. The same mouthpieces that the insurance company and local doctors want me to spend about $1,000 on can be found online. It seems that the main difference is that I have to do the adjustments and fitting myself. I looked. It ain’t that tough. Those fucking doctors tried to rip me off. I think I am going to have to beat them with sticks . I really don’t mind doing that though.

Well, I need sleep, so I will close by confessing. I was paid to crash those blogs on Blogshares. And for those that got crashed…your friends are the ones that paid me.

Will someone please explain to me why the recipe for cookies makes about 30, and the icing recipe is for about 80? Six cups is a shitload of powdered sugar.

OK, I have my son this weekend; he was asleep on the couch Friday night. The strange thing is, I didn’t mind being home on a Friday. In fact, even when I am going out a lot I don’t actually like hitting the town much on a Friday. It is always insanely crowded, which I hate. Plus there is this energy of desperation. I don’t know if it’s pent up energy from a long workweek, general desperation from people afraid they might not have fun or get laid, or if it is just because people are as a group insane. What I do know is that I am just not a fan of going out on Fridays. Saturday is somehow different. Part of that may be because people who got really drunk on Friday are too sick to go out. Plus, the churchgoers usually either skip Saturday or head home early.

Anyway, the problem is that there is this assumption that you have to go out on weekends. I understand that many people take it real seriously, but I just can’t get that worried about it. Maybe if I had a job where it was constant work rather than sporadic with periods of stress, it would matter more. But I have come to realize there is not a damn thing I can do Friday or Saturday that I can’t do any other night of the week. The beer is as cold and the music is as good (or bad). Hell, most bars are even better on weeknights. Weekends, bars become like a competition. Work is already enough competition for me.

I am thinking about all this because I realize I am eventually going to have to date someone again, and it seems like most people share these bizarre ideas about weekends that I find so quaint. That, of course, means I have to be prepared for them. On one hand, I can see why people want to go out only on weekends. If you plan on heavy drinking and/or lots of fucking, you don’t want it to screw up your work the next day. Most people don’t have the luxury I have of a more relaxed schedule.

Of course that may not be an issue with candidate number one. I swear she is a sign that I attract women with drama even when I change my approach. As we chatted, she was telling me that her car was in the shop and the mechanics didn’t finish on time so she didn’t have it all weekend. Now, I know what you are thinking. You are saying that could happen to anyone, and it could. But then I asked if she had to work Monday or if she would be able to go get it. That won’t be a problem. She got fired on Friday.

I have been in that place where everything went wrong at once, so I can relate. But I also know that when that is happening, there is always something else that will happen. It becomes a cycle of never ending bullshit. And some people seriously bring it on to themselves. I have this feeling that she is one of those that does just that.

This is going to be one of those insensitive things that will piss people off, but one I have a great deal of experience with. Women with kids they had very young and out of wedlock tend to have more drama, and it doesn’t just go away. I guess I am saying that a lot of those women, and I am sure the guys that are the dads, just keep doing different things that guarantee drama. I know some of it is unavoidable. Many of them are forced to take jobs that lend themselves to bullshit. And lots of them come from families where drama is a way of life.

I bring this up because this woman falls in to the young unmarried mom category. Since I have a son, albeit by marriage, I don’t discriminate because someone has kids. And I have never discriminated based on where the kid came from either. And I don’t think I will in this case either. But I just know that this is a woman that is not a candidate for getting serious with, unless I have seriously misjudged her. And, yeah, I will give her the chance. I am going in with a guarded attitude though. Of course, with my track record that should be a given.

On the other hand, she is really hot. And, since she’s unemployed, we can go out on weeknights.

Well, I guess I should see if Blogger fixed their shitty ass servers. Not counting on it.

I was working on a more typical entry, but I’ve set it aside for now. Instead, I will ramble.

I have noticed something. If a person says they are complex, they tend to be incredibly simple.

While I am not really political, I find it a little odd to say that someone is either too sick or too old to be executed. If anything, it’s more humane to kill someone that is already sick and old. If you are against the death penalty, that’s fine. But at least stick to an argument that makes sense.

If they want people to stop using drugs, they need to stop showing pictures of people that are really skinny because they used drugs. That just makes me want to mix some meth with some heroin.

For some reason, Sunday night is hot chick night at Wal Mart.

Whoever said, “There is no such thing as a stupid question” was obviously a person that asked a shitload of stupid questions and needed to find an excuse for them. I can assure you that not only are there stupid questions, there are questions so stupid that, when you ask them, somewhere in the universe a brilliant scientist’s head explodes.

On a similar note, that is the same person that invented the phrase “The customer is always right.”

I am no expert, but I’m pretty sure you can’t be both an atheist and a Satanist.

I have noticed an amazing thing about bloggers; it seems to be a community with disproportionate numbers of professional writers and musicians. Now, the fact that most of them usually fuck up and mention their real job. Actually, my personal favorite is the unemployed people who are now “freelance writers”. That’s a good one I will use if I get fired. I have to say though that saying you are a “freelance writer working on a project about Playboy” is really pushing it.

It is, in fact, impossible for interests to “keep going up” AND be at “record lows”.

No woman under 40 ever refers to herself as “classy” in a personal ad.

According to a radio host, there is a quiz that they have to take to make sure they understand the FCC rules. According to the quiz, you will get fined if you say, “fuck”. You will also get fined if you discuss shitting in detail (without using the word shit). It is, however, perfectly acceptable to say “I am going to come to your house, kill you and set your kids on fire.” Something wrong there.

I think Eminem has been reading my blog, and was worried that I might pass him on the whole “crazy ex” front. I can’t think of another good reason for him to marry his ex again.

It never ceases to amaze me how easy it is to manipulate people, especially online.

It is my sincere belief that the people that wrote Johnny Mnemonic were just trying to find a story to go with the cool title they came up with. Unfortunately, they had trouble writing anything good that was longer than 2 words.

The best way to deal with someone you know is lying to you is sometimes to pretend you don’t know. And sometimes if someone wants to hurt you, the best thing to do is give them something they think will hurt you that won’t. In fact, it’s kind of fun knowing they are wasting a lot of time, and doing a lot of gloating, but that the only damage exists in their minds.

With that, I say goodnight.

Having seen many blogs, I have decided I need a cause. No, I am not saying I need to adopt a charity or something. Instead, I need some reason to have people send money to me. I have seen people with counters on their blogs to track donations for car, trips, dental care and all sorts of other shit. Now, I am sure all these people consider their causes worthy, and I am also sure that the people who are donating feel like they have helped.

Of course the cynical side of me realizes the whole thing could be total bullshit. I am not saying it is. Hell, if I were going to make up a reason for people to send me money it sure as fuck wouldn’t be any of those. Then again, if you start making up stories about cancer and shit someone eventually starts offering other kinds of help. I know one guy that actually was very sick, and there was a fundraiser for him. But soon the exaggerations in his story became very clear. I have no idea what the money was really for, and I don’t care because I didn’t donate any. I do know he wasn’t getting the treatments he said at the hospitals he said were treating him. On the other hand, he also did die of something when it was all said and done, so who knows.

I have a legitimate need. I need to get decent sleep. Now I need a neat little chart with a bed that moves across the screen to signify how much money I have raised towards the treatment. It seems to me that the message is that someone else should pay, no matter what the expense may be.

Of course someone else needs to create that as well, because clearly I’m not supposed to actually do anything in this process.

I also have a really bizarre revelation from this dip in the personals pool: I am even more serious about not being serious than I realized. I was in the pantry this evening putting up groceries when I suddenly realized that there were women already that I am certain I could be working very hard. There’s one I even think I could have invited over. But I’m not even trying.

Not only that, I am being so much more picky it’s not even funny. Normally I would be taking an opportunity presented now, even if it wasn’t ideal. I know there are women that have a level of interest high enough that I could have had dates by now, but I consider the possibility and the only word that comes to mind is ehh.

It’s really strange for me, and I know most of you can’t see that. The main reason the stories of nuts exist is because I wanted to be with someone enough to look past obvious bullshit and put up with a lot. Right now, I am not willing to be as forgiving. I actually don’t mind being alone, which is a major change. I do hate not getting laid regularly, but not enough to go through any crap.

The next thing will probably offend the hell out of some people. If I am not seriously attracted, I’m not interested. Yes, that is amazingly shallow and superficial, but it really is going to take a lot for me to get involved with someone. Up until this point it’s been more talk than anything. Yeah, I believed it, but that’s real easy when you aren’t faced with options. Now I have options and I’m like, “Nope…still not really interested.”

The good news is that this should do wonders for my sanity. The bad news is that now I have no idea what to write about.

I am writing this at 2AM. Why am I up at 2AM you ask? It’s not any sort of good reason. Basically I have some little goal I set for myself and I have to be up for about another hour to accomplish it. I have to be somewhat evasive because if I’m not someone might keep it from happening. I try hard not to be paranoid, but there are some fucking twisted people lately. I swear some of them know when I shit before the first splash.

First, I have to tell you I had about the most fucked up dream I think I have ever had. Let me preface this by saying that, this time, I have no idea why the fuck I had this dream. Usually there is some kind of trigger, like something on TV or a conversation or something. This time, not a clue.

In the dream, I was somehow a close friend of the Pope. Now, I don’t mean the current Pope. I was a friend of the last Pope. In my dream he hadn’t died. Instead he had retired, and was a Cardinal again. So Here I am with the old Pope, the new Pope and some assistants. And we are traveling. But where, you ask, are we going? I was taking them all to the church my parents took me to as a kid. The Pope was visiting a Baptist church.

As we were driving up to the church, the old Pope had a request. Before we went in he wanted a hug and a kiss on the forehead. Yeah, it seemed as creepy in the dream as it seems when I wrote it. He was really making me uncomfortable. He didn’t do anything bad, but I will say that old man skin from the kiss on his forehead was really creepy to me. And he really did hold the hug too long.

He also had this really elaborate crucifix that he was offering to some young priest. But the priest had a crucifix, so he didn’t take it. Then my feelings were really hurt because I felt like the old Pope should offer me the crucifix. I think he could sense it and rather than hold on to this old crucifix he had no use for, he did finally give it to me.

So we get to the church, and we go in the back door. But after I escorted the old Pope in I went back outside for a second to make sure the new Pope made it in OK. I saw he was talking to someone, went back inside, and the old Pope had just disappeared. I walked around a while looking for him, but I didn’t have any luck. I did, however, find people I knew heading in to a Sunday School class, so I went in with them. They didn’t approve of me, though, because now I didn’t have my shirt on anymore. Needless to say this was a very uncomfortable situation.

Yeah, it’s weird.

I have fewer weird dreams lately. I have been sleeping on the couch. I think I sleep better on the couch. I am kind of forced to sleep on my side, which is supposed to be good for some people with sleep apnea. In my nice, big soft bed, I end up sleeping on my back, which is the worst way for someone with sleep apnea to sleep. So, except when I need the alarm clock I have been sleeping out in the den. So I can’t guarantee as many fucked up dreams. Yes, the dream came from a night on the couch, but usually I have a shitload more dreams than I have been having.

OK, so it’s not night anymore. I finished the chore and then, when debating if I should sleep or not, was given wise advice from Australia: “If you are trying to decide something like that, you probably need sleep.” So, yes, I slept. And I didn’t post this because I was just fucking tired. Yes, I slept, and yes, I dreamt. I don’t recall the dream but I do know my parents were there, my dad had a car wreck (because he is a lousy driver), my son was there and my friend Justin used my last razor blade so I had to shave with a dull razor. The fucker.

I am also exhausted because the dog woke me up during a dream, which is really bad. I understand he needed to pee, but he should have waited. Damn dog. I am mainlining coffee. Of course I do that anyway.

I could update the whole dating thing, but I’ll wait. Maybe by then something will happen.

Yes, I know I didn’t post last night. By the time I could post I was too tired and too annoyed to actually do it.

I hate IBM.

Yes, I have a problem with my computer. This time the DVD/CDRW drive is not working. So I went through the whole troubleshooting process. First they told me to update the firmware. To do this, you have to copy files to a blank CD. In other words, you use your CD-ROM to fix your CD-ROM. The other suggestion was to run the diagnostic CD. So, when not using your CD-ROM to fix your CD-Rom, you are supposed to use your CD-ROM to diagnose problems with your CD-ROM. In short, the shit won’t work. But it gets better. You see, IBM has decided to replace the drive itself. This would be the drive that we have already replaced twice. I guess this time they are sending a magic CD-ROM that will actually work.

Of course, this isn’t hindering my work. That is being done by the massive file that caused my email system to crash repeatedly during downloading. The crashing somehow convinced the email system that I needed locked out. Since I work online, not having email is a bit of a problem. Scratch that. It’s a huge fucking problem. And with the 2-hour time difference and the inexplicable policy that has the IT people coming in after everyone else, I might actually get to work around Thursday.

Of course, my boss has a great response: “I am never buying IBM again.” Note, this does not mean I am getting a new laptop. It just means that anyone else will not have to go through this.

Anyway, you don’t want to know why I am considering slashing my wrists unless it was caused by some crazy ass chick that likes freaky sex, is still married to her last 2 husbands, has a criminal record, used to strip and is not only a past victim of assault, she is also a perpetrator.

I have some bad news though. In the last 36 hours I have not had sex, been robbed, been hit or dealt with any criminals. Sadly, my life has become very dull when it comes to all the things that made the blog worth reading. Granted, this does increase my likelihood of being almost sane and of not getting a disease, assaulted or robbed. But I know that the people that read this shit actually want something bad to happen to me, as long as I live and am still able to use at least one finger for typing.

What this means is that I can’t shock you today. I want to, really. But I swore to myself not to make shit up. I could, because I am good at it, but I do that in other shit I write, in the deluded hope that I will some day be published or sell a screenplay. I need these delusions, so just let me keep them.

But I have been working the personals, as I promised. I don’t have much to report though. Yes, I have some prospects. It seems there are women that find my sense of humor endearing. Clearly this disproves the belief that crack-heads cannot use the Internet. On top of that, and this may come as a huge surprise, they are really cute. Now, all but one of them has at least 1 “must not be” that I violate, but, as I stated, it’s amazing how flexible that is.

Now the pressure is on though. One of the ladies expects me to continue to be witty. Another actually used her one time only 7-day free trial just so she could give me her regular email address. It is all so much pressure. I have a lot to measure up to, I can tell you that. Like I don’t have enough pressure trying to work and getting this piece of shit written every day. I think I may take up drinking. Excessive drinking. I think I will have regular Jaegerbombs so I can drink even longer.

Plus, and I have to say this, it is clear nobody actually works. Everyone just spends their time online.

And I got an explanation of why the ex doesn’t want to get back together, and it’s a good one. Basically, she wants a husband and she knows I don’t want to get married. I really don’t right now. And, I hate to say this, but I wouldn’t marry her. There is just unavoidable drama constantly in her life. Some people just always have drama. Her family is high drama. Her kids are high drama. Her ex is high drama. Her job is high drama. I swear that she probably shops at a high drama grocery store and wears high drama shoe. It is what it is.

My philosophy is to avoid drama now. I have had enough drama. I have seen everything and don’t want to see anymore. So, I am more than willing to let this one get away if it means I get to live a more relaxed life.

But if you read this blog, you are going to be one bored motherfucker.