The Libido Lambada...

I may be no expert in relationships and how to make them last (you may even want to come to me to ask how to do the opposite), but there is one thing I know quite well: The Male Libido.

I read a statistic that stated: Males between the age of 12 and 19 think about sex once every 5 seconds.

Lump my 30 something ass into there with them.

Which brings me to my topic for the day.

Necessary Nookie for the Male Libido.

I believe that nuns and monks are very admirable for their vow of celibacy, but completely unnecessary and they're missing out on a key ingredient to human happiness.

I know two types of women (and a few gray area women) that fall on both sides of this topic. Women are more across the board, because...let's face it...testosterone is the 'horny juice' of the human body, and we have an abundance and you have varied levels.

The first type is the type of woman that can't hold a relationship down, because she likes sex, or uses it to try and find a man. She dresses a little provactively and makes efforts to flirt with Joe Six Pack at the bar. She is up for giving morning head, has the Lunch-hour-Lust and is up for a roll in the hay after getting out of the gym. Yet, she thinks that sex IS love, and therefore can't make a relationship work past a couple to a few years, mostly because she's in a relationship with a guy that mostly liked her because she likes to fuck.

On the flip side of the coin:

The second type is more confusing. The girl that goes out of her way to NOT have sex. Okay, so maybe not go out of her way, but makes no efforts to give it any sort of importance. She'll busy herself to keep her mind off of it, or it just slips her mind altogether on a daily basis, because let's face it, it's not the first thought that crossed her mind before running to the mall to meet up with her girlfriends. She's a fun date, intelligent, and easy to get along with, but finds herself wondering what's "missing" in her relationships and when confronted with "It's because you never want to have sex." She always evades that idea to believe "It can't be that." Yet, if a man thinks about sex once out of 5 seconds, and he's not getting it...it's 'that'.

We as a species (as previously stated in former blogs), may have evolved ourselves into a corner. The woman that knows her man is an animal, but doesn't use sex as either a weapon or as a foundation, is a woman that will keep a happy man for many, many years.

Sex is a key to life. And, as dolphins and humans are the only two mammals that have sex for enjoyment, it's almost a necessity to find a balance of Sex and Life.

The endorphins released cause a euphoric feeling, a bond, and releases anxiety, stress, and a multitude of other bodily displeasures.

As I said, I'm no relationship expert, but I'm observant, and I know that I have lost relationships for making sex the ONLY bond I had with a girl, and also the lack of sex in other relationships.

Here's how it works ladies. Say you get married, and your man is about to head out to Pub Night with the boys. All the men are single that your new husband is going out with, and it's the same 'fellas' that he used to go out prowling for chicks with. You get nervous, and don't know what to think about the situation.

Well, Dr. Johnny has the cure for cancer for this one. Fuck his brains out.

Diffuse the bomb, before the bomb has a chance to blow up. Here's what happens:
You give him a thick riding before he leaves, and when he's with his buddies, he's not only relaxed and NOT thinking about sex (because he just got some), he's thinking about how great the sex was with you, and you've just bought yourself a ticket to happiness.

It's the same principle of when we go on dates. If we really like the lady, we'll rub one out before we go on this date. Why? So that we're not trying to 'score' with you, and we focus more on your wonderful assets, as opposed to your ass-n-tits.

We, as men, know that our beast within is a vile one. He has to be fed in order to 'think' properly and with a clear mind.

This is why we are willing to fuck up a "wife and kids" scenario for one thing, and one thing alone....sex. Whether it be with someone younger, darker, fatter, thinner, redhead, or blonde....we like variety, and hate routine. So, keep it spicy, and keep it wild, and we'll never stray. It's not a "what if" situation...it's a "WILL" situation.

I, myself, do not fit into this category. As you read in my blogs, I am not your Run of the Mill type man. I can fuck up a relationship in a multitude of ways, but it will never be for cheating. I'll punch the clown twice a day if necessary to kill that insatiable feeling of horny, but I will not destroy Love for Lust. Passion, maybe, but not passion in the sexual mind. I love passion of life, soul, earth, and all inbetween, but never "Just for sex."

In finishing, a nun and a monk are respected by me for the intent (as futile as it is), but in the end, they're missing out on making love, jungle fucking, and quickies. They finish doing the wrong thing (alter boys), because it's human nature to want to spread your seed, or have your eggs fertilized.

Or, to simply, get off.

So, men, do your best to know that you have a monster in your belly, and he's just that...a monster. He'll turn you into something you don't need in your life if you let him.

Ladies. Please, if you take anything away from this, let it be this nugget of wisdom: We are far more horny than you THINK you know. We hide it at all costs, but we need to be satiated, or we will look to the first example of woman for what we need. (and we know from the jump that those relationships are doomed, but for some reason, some men still choose to get laid more often, than have a relationship with substance...if they feel neglected)

As Joe Rogan so bluntly puts it..."It's leftover monkey shit."

Final thought:

I'll break it down into my Man Equation; We lift weights to gain muscle, to look 'protective' to get women, to get laid. We go to college, to get a good job, to make more money, to buy cool shit, to get women, to get laid. We shave, we shower, we run, we learn to cook, we do damn close to everything we do...with the intent...that it'll get us laid. No joke. If sex were not in this equation, men would stink, be hairy, and ultimately we'd all look like Zach Galifianakis. Seriously.


So, that's my insight into our gremlin we call our male libido. Feel free to take away from it what you like, but that's men, cut and dry. We love you women, but we love our little soldier just as much.

Why do you think, after every sexual encounter, we ask whether or not you had an orgasm, or "Was that good for you?", because we want you to jump up and down and cheer our name, and say "That was the best sex EVER!! You're a rockstar!!"

Alright, enough said....


I'm off to a Thai Massage parlor...

The ol' Rub-n-Tug,
I'm out....

-Johnny

The Art of the Drink...

A few weeks ago, I was at a bar with a buddy of mine in Denver, and we went to a bar that was exclusively known for serving scotch. I approach said bar in awe at the multitudes of upside down bottles in their individual dispensaries behind the bartender. I say to the bartender "I'll have a Talisker, neat, 3 fingers." to which she replied. "Ummm...Talisker...?? Let me see if we have that." and she then proceeded to walk around a corner and talk to an elderly man, who pointed to the second row of scotch dispensaries. She nodded, and came back to me, and said.."Okay, now how do you make a...what did you call it?" "A Talisker...neat...3 fingers?" "Yeah, that!" "You...grab a glass...How long have you worked here?" - "2 years." - "Oh, for fucks sake...Do you know what a scotch on the rocks is?" "Yeah." "Give me a scotch on the rocks, with no ice, and 3 squirts from your little mechanism that it's sitting on top of."

This hurt my soul.

Not for the fact that she didn't know any of the jargon I was using, but for the fact that a place that should have invited class, had a person in a hooded sweatshirt working behind the bar, that knew nothing of the peaty, distinct richness of scotch, and how to serve it to a gentleman in the know.

I peruse the liquor aisle in a grocery store now and I see "Infused With...", "Cherry Flavored" "Lemon Craze"...and I have to just look on with a head that shakes from side to side in heartbreak.

No longer can a true gentleman show his expertise with such class and elegance by knowing a vast array of drinks off the cuff when hosting a lady in his place. "What would you like?" he would say as he disappeared behind his bar as he popped the top from his silver bullet shaker. "A Rob Roy." "A Sidecar." "A Tom Collins."

And the man would go to work.

Now, with premade, prefabricated everything, in a world that demands "I want it faster!", the smooth caress of a mans hand upon his martini shaker is slowly becoming a thing of the past.

Liquors now have recipes on a rubberband hanging around their neck that simply read "Mix with 7-Up, and you're ready to go."

They've taken then Class out of Classic.

To go back to the bar, where I'm staring with a forlorn face into the empty gaze of a hoodie wearing bartender...I will finish my pain, and agony by giving you her final retort to our conversation.

"So, you want a triple shot of scotch?"

I almost cried.


Classically yours,
Mangano, Johnny Mangano

Shaken, not Stirred.

Prestige....

pres·tige
Pronunciation: \pre-ˈstēzh, -ˈstēj\

Function: noun

Usage: often attributive

1 : standing or estimation in the eyes of people : weight or credit in general opinion

2 : commanding position in people's minds

By definition, this word means "I want to look cool in other peoples' eyes."

It seems to be a word that our society continues to chase day after day, week after week...and so on.

The actual status is elusive by nature, and we tend to blame others when we are incapable of reaching it. Yet, we want it so badly, that we inadvertently incorporate it into our daily speak.

"I'm going to party like a rock star!"

"I'm king of the world!"

"That's so 'yesterday'."

We have this need to feel superior to our peers, and yet we want to fit in and 'belong' at the same time.

As humans, we are pack animals, and every pack needs a leader, but the problem is...no one these days wants to be a follower. Followers are not respected, admired, or showered with riches.

But, what are riches by definition? Money? Cars? Mansions?

"Once I get to the prestigious position, all will admire me and respect me."

Well, Paris Hilton has a mansion, and a Bentley and all the newest couture...and is in fact an heiress to the Hilton Hotel chain...and yet, cannot command respect from us, nor her peers.

And yet, when we fall short of this, and find that our prestige isn't exactly A) Attainable, or B) What we thought it'd be, we tend to play the Blame Game.

Here's what I'm getting at...we all fight and struggle to get on top of what we always imagined to be the pinnacle of success. Whether it be the CEO of a company, or the star of a movie, but sometimes those things don't happen the way we planned on them to.

Take me for example. Big dreamer. Told everyone from the time I was 15 that I was going to be a huge actor, and fought through doubters, haters, and hecklers to get to where I am today. Yet, where am I today? Where I am is a place that I have decided has done exactly what it set out to do. Teach me lessons. Lessons in love. Lessons in success. Lessons in drive, ambition, and power.

I cannot point my finger at everyone around me and say "YOU'RE THE REASON I'M NOT MORE FAMOUS THAN TOM CRUISE!!!", because they are not the reason. No one can destroy you, but you.

And, sometimes, just sometimes...the lessons learned...are greater than the riches that would have come from said success.

There are two topics I wanted to destroy in this blog: Blaming others for our failings, and the idiotic way we all - ALL - want some sort of prestige nowadays.

Sometimes it's not in our cards to get exactly what we want, and the trees roots grow in a different direction than we thought they were going to, and therefore we have to adjust our plan, because if the roots changed, that means the limbs of the tree will grow in a different direction as well. In other words...things rarely ever go according to plan. So, we change with them. We adjust our strategy, and we figure out an alternate route to attack what we call life.

I myself, want a modest, yet comfortable life. I want things that go inside my house, that no one will ever see, and that make me feel nice. I don't care what others think of me, and I don't care if life keeps handing me lemons...I will continue to make lemonade.

Lastly, I don't care about being admired. I do care about being respected.

Respect is something we forget about all the time. We confuse it for admiration, and that has gone way out of control. There was a man that worked in my highschool as a janitor, and he had been there for over 30 years when I was there. Every teacher, every principal, and most parents respected this man. He got Christmas gifts, candy, birthday gifts...from all the people. For his hard work, his diligent life, and his respect for all those around him. This commanded respect from those that surrounded him.

But, he wasn't famous. He didn't make a lot of money. He didn't even drive a nice car. But, he was admired...through respect.

Be good at what you do. Don't make too many waves, and stay passionate about life. Above all, remember that the reason we used to want nice things...was to share them with someone you love, and not be in a mansion, alone, full of disrespect, empty hearts, and broken promises.

Be true to the true nature of Life, and life will reward you with riches beyond all measure.

Now, I need to go wash my Bentley before I leave, I've got dinner at Katsuya with Kate Hudson to discuss A-Rod's future with the New York Yankees.

King of All,

Knuckles