Happy [Your Holiday of Choice] Knuckleheads!!

Roll with the punches my little minions, because the shitstorm we call Christmas is two weeks away. It's now chaos incarnate. There is a day where people beat each others ass, for plastic materials that show pretty pictures and families gather around, specifically tailored for this festive time of the year. It's come and gone, thankfully, but the bloodthirst for deals, cooler shit than you have, and being the first person in your tiny circle of friends with the first of something, still fills the air with holiday cheer.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love what Christmas, Hanukkah, and whatever other shit falls around now, stand for: Togetherness. Family. Laughter. Food. Friends. Reflecting.
They're all great things, and should be implemented more often throughout the year. Yet, as time has passed, that spirit has been given up to the monsters that sell you shiny new baubles, in exchange for a handful of trinkets that will fucking break in less than a year.

I remember looking forward to the holidays as a child, just so I could eat a huge meal. So, that, I could hear jingling bells, watch cool cartoons, and snuggle under a blanket and read a book with the smell of firelogs in the air. Now, if you don't get your kid the newest Xbox One/PS4 game, he shoots up a fucking kindergarten. Little cunts. (i didn't have children for a reason...i smelled this wind blowing in years ago, and wanted no part of it)

I still love cooking for my friends.I love to give gifts. I love to laugh and be jolly with everyone around me. I fully grasp the concept of what the holidays are about, Even as an Atheist, I still love the holiday spirit. What it's supposed to infuse into people, and why it should be shared. I don't have to cater to your ideals to believe what the bottom line should be. Love one another. Be happy. Give more. Don't take people for granted...the list goes on. But, it's changed to "What'd you get for Christmas?", and then comparing said response to what you received and either feeling superior, or inferior, depending on said response.

Look, what I am getting at here, is you...my Knuckleheads...are a strong minded group of people. You are the leaders, the poets, the lovers, the entertainers, the hard workers, the educators. You have it within you, whether you are a Believer or not, to spread love and cheer amongst those that you hold dear. And, even those that you have just met, or intend on meeting. You have it within your grasp to be the match that lights this Holiday Season's balls on far, and sends it screaming down the street slapping it's crotch with verve and vigor, all the while shouting to the world to live together happily, with more love, and embrace those that are different. (and, possibly for a fire extinguisher)

You cannot let this death of happiness continue. It's not even for us, as much as it is the next generations. Can you imagine being in a retirement home with those little fucks that scream at their TV's now when they can't get past a level on a game, taking care of your decrepit ass? "FUUUUUCK!!!! Why won't you HOLD YOUR OWN SPOON?!?! Eat your motherfucking OATMEAL!!!" No, I will shove my cane up his stinky winker.

All in all, I am just going to leave you with a message of cheer. If you're getting something for Christmas, just appreciate the love and thought that is behind it, not the value. Hell, getting Christmas Laid is free, and it's worth more than anything you can give or get...because you both win. Just continue to love more, worry less. Have compassion, and be less judgmental. Be a better you, than you thought you could ever be.

Just stop being a fuckhole, and fix this shit.

With all kinds of jingly love,
Knuckles

Thoughts, Accomplishments, and a Bountiful Journey

Welcome everyone! To the inner, and outer, ramblings of your friendly neighborhood Sober-man. As my previous blogs have shed light upon, you may know that I took the path least traveled into the world of Non-Alcoholic Life. "Odd." you may say. Being that scotch, martinis, and the elegant beer were mainstays in my life. But, it's been quite freeing.

For quite a few years I would have a scotch and a cigar nearby before even placing my fingers on the keyboard to type out this blog. The *tik tik tik* of the keys were accompanied by the clinking of the ice in my glass as I took every sip. Yet, here I sit, plugging away with clarity and a fistful of chaos still lurking in my mind and spirit. Yes, some things never change. The inner workings of Knuckles has not changed. He is still a free spirit, rolling stone, fun loving, respectful (to those that deserve such) gentleman, that prides himself not only on his life's journey, but his insight on life. So, why wouldn't it make sense to add a new chapter to my life. Shake things up, and show the world that anything is possible if you want it bad enough, and you have the support of the people that truly love you, and want you to remain in their lives, and in this world.

6 Months.

Yeah, it's been that long. Yesterday was my 6 month milestone. Some dear friends took me out for dinner. Kind, respectful, and loving friends. A select few have encouraged my sobriety, and helped me along the path. Others have taken my sobriety as a beacon of hope, and have reached out to me for help, asking how I did it, and what they could do to do the same. Others support me with words, and kindheartedness.

Take for instance a dear friend of over 15 years...(i think i have known him for 17, but it's a bit grey)...he wrote me a few days ago, while we were discussing the absence of certain friends in my life post-rehab, he eloquently responded with:

"Of course.....when people associate their time around you to one particular activity or another, any change in that associative image, tends to shift the social paradigm in such a manner that, the larger majority cannot adjust to said paradigm shift." 

He continued with:

"A true lasting friendship is not rooted in a singular paradigm. It exists, much like matter, in every paradigm. Adapting, growing, becoming... to paraphrase Bruce Li 'like water.' This is to say that to maintain the test of paradigm shifts the relationship has to become what it needs to be for the time and situation; it takes the shape of things to come, and though the form it takes is fluid and viscous it never changes it merely takes a new form."

To me, the value of one's words also create more weight in their position in my life. To not turn one's back on another because of a monetary shift in their life. Or, that you feel you can no longer go out for drinks like you used to, is an inward turmoil that I did not mean to create, but an outward test of friendship that happened.

I look upon life like a journey. It has a beginning and an end. You fill the space with memories, dreams, adventures, and love. You fill it with people that make you a better "you", and you fill it with friends you learn to believe in your heart of hearts, are truly family.

Unlike others, I have a very firm grasp on the person I am. Flaws, weaknesses, frailties, and issues included. I know what's fucked, and what's fixable. I know that there is a social stigma for profusely drinking, and I know there is an odd one that accompanies that with going to rehab. You are looked upon as broken, when in fact, you have fixed something that WAS broken. To believe oneself as infallible is to believe you are perfect. Perfection is a myth. But, constantly building upon yourself is respectable, and admirable. Look to your flaws, and judge them with an open mind. Can you tear those flaws apart, and rebuild a bigger and better you? Can you tear down your stigmas and replace them with vital pieces of a more successful you? If so, then take that look in the mirror that I did. Reevaluate yourself. Your being. Your journey. Your "you". Don't lose sight of what you CAN be, by what you are now.

I see myself as malleable. Willing to twist, turn, and suffer to get to what is right, and what is better for me. My whole life, I have learned to turn a blind eye to the naysayers, and to the haters. Everyone judges you no matter what you choose. But, if you believe you are doing something to better yourself, then by all means, continue. Do not infringe upon others, but include them in your journey. Your friendship will stand the test of time if they are true. If not, then their true colors have shone through. Money, time, bars, etc...will come and go. But, love, respect, friendship and kindness are more valuable than most may think.

In conclusion, I want to remind you all that my journey is not over until someone flings a fiery spear into my heart one day. Until that day, I will continue to fight and fuck. Life is too short to become to uptight and straitlaced, But, with my newly found accomplishment, at least I will remember it all.

Keep plugging along my fellow Knuckleheads, you bring me hope in humanity.

With love and respect,
Knuckles

[Quotes Courtesy of: Matt "Gutter" Robinson]

FYI...don't call him Gutter...that's a no-no to anyone but me.

A Fistful of Future

Welcome Knuckleheads, to the always endearing, and sometimes insightful, view into the life of Knuckles. Today we take a journey into the mind, body, and soul that makes up the man behind the words. With all the vulgarity, abrasiveness, and crass behavior, it's hard to imagine that a man such as I is weak and vulnerable, but in the proceeding words, you will witness just that. The soft underbelly of the beast is about to be exposed.

I try and not pass judgment on friends and family, or just generally speaking, the ones I love. I accept them for their flaws, their ideals, their way of life, without so much as blinking at their demons...so long as they love me back in the same manner. I have an eclectic group of friends. From the potheads, to coke heads, to the booze hounds, and even the teetotalers. I love them all equally, as long as that love is returned. But, rarely did I ever look in the mirror to see if I was loving myself. Yes, I am cocky and confident, but it was a long hard look in the mirror that led me to realize that the love I possessed was only moving outward, and I had long forgotten how to love inward.

It's always good to start at the beginning, so let us begin there. In college, I was a machine. I was kickboxing, studying all my martial arts, had 2% body fat, and was eating upwards of 6 to 7,000 calories a day, and burning it off as soon as it hit my stomach. I didn't drink, smoke, or do any drugs. This was the first couple of years. Josh (my suite mate) would always tell me to "Let loose every now and then. Live life. You're always so uptight about your workouts and kickboxing.". I never listened in the beginning. Finally I broke down once at the Juke Joint, and had a Tom Collins (his drink of choice), and so began my social life. Ultimately, I believe it was me trying to make Josh happy. He was my best friend, and we were so alike, but when it came to our social lives, we were quite different. So, I feel it was me trying to please him, and be on common ground in all aspects of our lives. In the beginning I was doing double duty, and because I was in such good shape, I could still party at night, and still get up early and get my workouts in. 

Then, at some point, Josh and I had an argument before summer vacation. To this day, I can't remember what it was even about. But, he went home for the summer, and I stayed behind to attend summer school. Then, on June 27th, 1998, my phone rang. On the other end was Meredith, a mutual friend of Josh and I. She asked if I had read the paper, or anyone else had called me. My stomach dropped from my body, and I said "No. Why?". "Josh died in a car accident yesterday.". And, all I could do was say "Thank you." and hang up. 

I was distraught to say the least. Coupled with the guilt of not reaching out to say I was sorry for whatever we had argued about. No. I couldn't do that. I couldn't even tell him how much he meant to me, and how much I loved him. And, that's when I pounded a bottle of scotch to numb myself. Every sip in his honor. 

Fast forward to L.A. Where the drinks flow freely, and the lifestyle is Party All The Time (if you don't have your head screwed on right at least). Alcohol was available everywhere. And, I found it everywhere. By this point I had become a steady social butterfly. The curse of choosing the career of Actor had it's ups and downs. Without going into detail there, I will just say, it was Phase 2.

The following years were a rollercoaster. But, I found myself taking a drink when each hard time or trial came my way. It's how I dealt with all the rejection, and chaos. The pain of life was dealt more lightly when my brain was slightly numbed. Then after a heartbreaking breakup (albeit it amicable, and justified), I began swimming to the bottom of the bottle. 

So began the spiral. 

I never dealt with Josh's death the way I should have. I never dealt with my breakup the way I should have. I never dealt with stress....you guessed it...

So, I hid. 

The years to come were riddled with masks and mist. False confidence, and emotional turmoil. I no longer had the ability to cope with issues of life the way I should. I still fought for my dreams, and for love, but it took a backseat at times to my need to have a drink.

I had convinced myself that I was a classy drinker. Only scotch or martinis. But, it was still in abundance. 

Then I met a girl that didn't drink, and I began attempting to stop. When I would try, my body would literally shut down. Which, in turn brought on frustration and anger at myself, which in turn caused me to want to drown that feeling of inadequacy, and self hate, in the form of fire water.

I tried everything. Only drinking wine or beer. Nope. Only drinking when I was not at home. Nope. I tried stopping cold turkey so many times I lost count. But, nothing ever worked. Then, last year it started directly affecting my health. I would look in the mirror and see a shadow of my former self, and it disgusted me. What had happened to the powerful, determined, passionate, driven man that I had once been? I still knew how to "be" him...but, I no longer "was" him. 

Admitting there is something wrong, when you have been such a force to be reckoned with for so long, is disheartening to say the least. I believe the final straw was losing the love of my life, and my ideal apartment. I headed to California, where after a bit of a soul rattling, a great friend sat down with me and we discussed my future, my wants and needs, and what I wanted from life.

What happened next was the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. 

Rehab.

Not just ANY rehab. There were no perks, or bells and whistles at this facility. No. This was a Detox and Residential Treatment facility. 

I walked in, and almost like a prison they take away your phone, your shoestrings (along with anything else that has a string...including sweatshirts, and shorts), and process you. I looked around and saw plenty of broken souls. And, although 2 years before I would have said "I don't belong here!", I knew I was where I needed to be. 

Here I was entered into Detox. I was monitored every two hours (24 hours a day...so, I never got much sleep), and was given a strict regimen of pills. We were awake at 5:30am and were in meetings, therapy, discussion, and doctors until 8pm. I had my first seizure on the second day. My body was clearing out the poisons from my body, but the demon had it's claws in me so deeply, it didn't want to let go, and was willing to take me with it, if it had to die. So, I was now on heart medication, and had to wear a seizure risk bracelet. I was now wearing three bracelets. My intake bracelet, my Fall Risk bracelet, and my Seizure Risk bracelet. It was humbling to say the least.

My roommate was an amazing kid. Mario Vega. Kind, and understanding. He talked me through the process (he had been twice before), and kept me from panicking. The more I was there, the more I found out. It turns out that my triggers were based on anxiety, stress, and more so, clinical depression. 

I had never dealt with things the way I should have.

Leap to a couple of  minor heart attacks (luckily, not coupled with seizures), and my health started perking back up. I was becoming more insightful, and clear minded by the end of Detox. Yet, could tell no one of my success, due to the fact we had no phone access, nor internet, and no one knew where I was. 

Then, I was transferred to RTC. (Residential Treatment) A large house, with our own bedroom (albeit a hospital bed), and onsight nurses and counselors. We were due up at 6am to begin our chores. Then at 7am was our first A.A. meeting, followed by discussion and various other Intensive Treatment to help us get a handle on what needed to be done to correct what was broken in our lives. The meetings were intense. Usually with lots of tears, remorse, and humbling stories. We varied from the modest housewife that drank to escape the turmoil of a violent husband, to the meth addict that began to lose weight. All the while, looking deep inside ourselves to find where we had went wrong.

I likened my rebuilding to a pyramid: You can't build a pyramid without first building the foundation. Your first layer can't be built on matchsticks. No. It has to be the most solid layer, or else everything else comes crumbling down later. So, I began. Although we were supposed to be up at 6am, I was up at 5:30am, just to get my chores done early, and have a chance to read my Big Book. I attended every meeting. I never shirked duties, and I always picked up the slack of those that did. Usually the ones that weren't there of their own free will, and were forced there by a spouse, or a job. I went above and beyond in all facets, because I wanted it to stick. I took my pills, and followed all the guidelines. I felt my confidence coming back, and my mind becoming clear. Others started coming to me for assistance, or opinions on life. 

My swagger was slowly returning.

I had never felt so good since my early 20's. I was healthy, happy, and more level headed than I had been in years. Yet, still, no one knew where I was...so, I wasn't able to share my success.

Finally, I graduated...with honors nonetheless. I coined out and was given a diploma. Where, I then proceeded to reevaluate my life, and make adjustments. Made some inventory of my life's priorities, and stepped out the front doors into my Phoenix Rising life. (ironically, there was a liquor store across from the exit of the rehab facility)

So, here I sit, a reinvented man. Today is day 49 of being a teetotaler. I don't miss alcohol in the least. I don't miss the time, money, or love I have lost due to it. I have accounted for my wrong doings, and I have made adjustments to what is important to me. I fight for that peace of mind I mentioned, and I will continue down the right path. Career, love, self confidence, and drive are all the things I need to remain happy. 

Which, brings me to the revelation that the perception of me, isn't whom I always was. I have weakness the same as all others. I am breakable, and I am vulnerable. But, with a long look in the mirror, and good friends and loving people surrounding me/you...all things are possible. I am on the right path. The next chapter is going to be filled full of memorable moments. Whether they be struggles to keep negative things and people out of my life to prevent the stress, anxiety, and depression that could cause a relapse, or the struggles to dig myself out of the mindset I had dug for myself. 

Ultimately, this is how I feel now:

Life is, the sunlight that shines through your window in the morning. Be thankful there is a pane of glass separating you from the elements. Be thankful for the vision you have to be able to see the light as it dances from the window to every corner of the room you occupy. Be thankful for the feeling of warmth, and the soft kiss it gives your skin. Be thankful for for the walls that protect you. Be thankful for waking up.

I am thankful for so much in life now. Most of all, I am thankful for the love of friends and family. I am thankful for people that don't pass judgment and embrace me for choosing to better myself. I am thankful for my health, happiness, and my ability to have a future.

So, in finishing, I am starting anew. I now have to take medication to prevent heart, blood pressure, depression, and anxiety issues. I now read my Big Book when I feel weak. I now have made adjustments to my life to keep me on the right track. And, with the love and support of those around me, I will conquer all obstacles that appear, and embody me. 

I will bruise the world's ego with Knuckles. It will not keep me down.

Thank you all for your love and support. It was disheartening writing this...but, admitting one's flaws is not an unreasonable way to begin with my right foot forward, and giving myself a clear path to where I want to be. It's difficult to be as brutally honest as such, and exposing myself to the world, but to grow, I felt I needed to. Because, growing, is what I plan on doing. And, never hindering myself from doing so again.

Which, means this is the end, and beginning...

With all my love,

Knuckles

Shove Your Arrow In My Blood Pumper

Happy Valentine's Day Eve Knuckleheads!! (if any of you say V-Day, you deserve to have a cheese grater dipped in Rooster Sauce shoved up your tightest orifice)
Today Knuckles takes a look into your heart. Not with a knife and rib spreader as you may imagine I would, but metaphorically. You know, that place where you keep your feelings and shit. Your love trunk.
I would normally rant and rage on how love can hurt, and just rail on that, but today we're going to touch you in a soft spot. [*No, Gutter, not there...now pull up your pants] I am going to give you some insight into how love can heal, love can embody, and love can give your life a whole new meaning.

Okay, I may touch lightly on the dark side, but not much...it is a happy subject after all.

Let us begin.

*cracks knuckles...gently lays fingers on keys*

At the age of 38, I thought I would be a successful actor. Living in a house in Malibu, California. Have two dogs. A 1969 Dodge Charger as my means of transportation, and more smiles than I have ever imagined. I just never had a solid idea of whom it would be with. I remember after high school, I would dream about this girl that I would walk on the beach telling stories of my life, and she made me feel so content. I never looked over, and never knew what she looked like, but I knew I had to have her when I woke up. When I was with her, I was calm, and peaceful. I could conquer the world in her name, and she would never worship me, but stand beside me as we stood atop the world we had slain.
What I realized about halfway through college is, I wasn't searching for a girl with no face. (how fucking weird would that be?) I was searching for love. I craved it. I needed it. I desired it. I ached for it. "Why?" you may ask? Because, when you're a beast, you need someone to tame you. That's why. I started boxing at 15. I was in martial arts by 18. Fought Muay Thai after high school, and into college. I have always been a fighter, but I never had an Adrian to my Rocky. Those years are long gone, and the beast still rages within me.
But, one thing remains certain, I love the feeling of love. I found my first adult love in college. She was the best. She was smart, conversational, full of life, and just as new to Love as I was. We grew into adults together. Which, now I understand that was also part of the demise of the relationship. We hadn't fully flourished into the adults we were to ultimately become, and grew apart eventually, but WOW! what a ride it was getting there. You see, love is one of those things, that if it truly exists/existed in the relationship, and you look back on it after it's gone, you aren't angry, but you relish in the memories, and realize that the Love was what was important. I'm sure that there were bills to be paid, or that arguments had flared, but I don't remember those. I remember laughing, making snow angels in college, road trips to Chicago, trips around the world, and feeling complete when she was in the room.
That's the thing about love right? When they are away, you feel that something is missing. You feel incomplete. That's why you badger them with texts asking when they will be home, or you plan something sweet for them when you see them. Because, you (on a subconscious level or not) want them to be right beside you. They don't even need to talk. Their presence is what is important.
Backtracking a bit...back in college, I was so desperate to find love, and to keep it in my life, that I began reading women's magazines, self help articles, and taking classes that were Female Majority, just so I could pick the brain of friends and peers. I began dressing (to what i thought, later to be refitted by my ex) better. I began to read recipe books, rather than fictional literature or comics. I became a meticulous cleaner. (a trait i was not taught growing up) But, ultimately, I wanted to be the best catch a woman ever had, when she finally met me, and I met her.
*In the end, I felt like I had become quite the Gentleman. I had classic taste in music. I cooked, I cleaned, I put her needs and desires first. I (as you may have guessed) was an excellent writer, so I wrote poetry, and short stories to include our future, and dreams. I am a giver by nature, and put other's needs above my own at all times.
[*There is no such thing as the perfect person. I was delusional, and needed someone to tell me so]
With that disclaimer, comes the negative bit.
You see, we can't all be perfect. We are all broken, or bent in some way. We have baggage, demons, monkeys on our back, and dark clouds. But, this is not a recipe for disaster. This is character. This is a challenge. This is your hurdle you have to overcome. The thing is; To find someone that will accept you for these things, and either A) Help you overcome them. or B) Accept it's part of a beautiful package.

Since leaving Los Angeles, I have dated little to none, but ultimately was set up with a beautiful and wonderful lady. She's geeky like me. She loves techy shit like me. She is a dog lover, a dreamer, a fireball, and best of all...genuine. In L.A. all I ever heard was "What have you been in?" and "What's your next project?". She never fell for that shit. She liked that her dog loved me, when she loved no one else. She liked that I could talk to her grandparents for HOURS without missing a beat. She liked that I cooked for her, when she felt lazy. She liked that I supported her dreams, when others thought they were nonsense. She liked the effort, the energy, and the commitment that I gave to her smile.
She was never anyone's priority, and I think it matters to make them know that they are. Yes, as all people that date/married/fuck we argue. But, it's nothing that can't be worked through with a little patience, and a whole lot of weed. *kidding?
But, to summarize:
Love isn't wrapped in a neat little package. It isn't how many times  you have cooked for someone. It isn't how much money you spend on someone. It isn't what bills you pay, or where you take them for Valentine's Day. Love is rare. Let me tell you. I'm an actor, Muay Thai fighter, Chef, Cleaning Lady, Dog Walker, Laundry Attendant, and full time Escort. But, that does not entitle me to love. That is a perk. Love is understanding, and compassion. Love is listening, and not talking. Love is a hug when she wants to push the world away. Love is understanding that the love isn't always there, but it can be worked through. Love is giving them space when they truly need it.

There are many things that Love is. There are far more things that love ISN'T!! (sex isn't love you idiots...men, stop saying "I love you." to get laid. Women, stop thinking because he said "I love you." that it's okay to give up that love tunnel) Each time I have been in love, I fight for it. I treat it like a beautiful flower, and I feed and water it, care for it gently, and make sure it has plenty of light. I give it the attention I know it deserves, because if I don't, it may die, and I may never find another flower as pretty as that one.

So, fuckers, did you learn something? No? Well, neither did I. I still fuck up relationships left and right apparently.

But, I do know a few things:

1. Love is worth it. - Whether it be a week or 80 years...find love, and hang on to that shit. It's like a drug.

2. Love is complex. - You won't always get what you want, but when you do, it's THE BOMB!!! *do people still say "THE BOMB!!"?

3. Love is messy. - Along with love, comes broken hearts. Analyze yourself as much as you do the other person. You may be the fucked up part of the equation. But, it's not always pretty, so train yourself to see only the beautiful things in love.

4. Love is rare. - This is for all those people that find Love, but don't give it the respect that it deserves. The cheaters, the lazy cunts, the non-givers...Love is fucking rare. Yes, you will find something that is a FAX'ed version of love again, but you will never find the genuine article more than a couple of times in your life. The FAX'ed version will have a man/woman that says they love you, but still texts old booty calls (do people still say......nevermind), or still keep an open window. If you find it, you stop fucking around, and you work on it. You keep that shit close to your heart, and protect it with all your might, because you're not a fucking vampire, and you don't have hundreds of years to live. You get a couple of shots at this, and if you fuck it up, you're going to be spending a lot of time on Facebook on Valentine's Day, as a Gold Medal Winner at the Masturbation Olympics, and run the chance of telling your niece to delete your porn stash on your computer on your death bed, because you couldn't find a way to commit to a relationship.

5. Love is fucking hard!!! - It's an ever-evolving beast. One month may be all happy-go-lucky, the next is stressed and full of chaos. ADAPT!!! Don't be that person that takes your anger of LIFE out on LOVE! This person is your companion, not your enemy. They chose YOU to go into battle, so treat it as such. Direct your anger to the proper direction. If you can't....join a gym....it helps.


So, there's Knuckles rules for keeping love in your life. I have more, but at this point, I'd have to write a fucking book.

Bottom line...Find love, Nurture Love, Keep Love.

Life is short,
Love hard,

Your Bloody Valentine,
Knuckles

Suck it up, or Blow it off!!!

Ladies and Gentlemen!!! I present to you, the most amazing, charismatic, and powerful entity you will ever have the pleasure of coming in contact with...I reintroduce to you....*drum roll*...KNUCKLES THE EVERLASTING!!!

Yes, it's been awhile kids. Too long if you ask me. I have personally walked into the depths of Hell, kicked Satan dead in his bean bag, and told him to go fuck himself, walked my happy ass back to the real world, and here I stand, a better man. War torn, slightly more scarred than before, but above all, a better and stronger Knuckles for your viewing pleasure.

Along the way, I picked up a companion. Alas, she didn't come with a T.A.R.D.I.S., but she did come with a fuzzy white dog. And, like the Doctor himself, I begin a new journey. A new saga. A new adventure. And, like the former companion, this one knows what it takes to keep the beast known as Knuckles Mangano on his leash, and when to set him free upon this world. Tonight, I am free, so I am bemusing you with a set of bookends known as Wisdom and Knowledge.

You see, as with every new adventure, you approach it with a tenseness. Not fear, but wary of what lies ahead. "I gave 100% before, and still came up short. Who's to say this time will be no different?" "I don't know if I will measure up to their past, and if I come up short in one department or another, will she raise her mast and set sail?" But, here is where you get bludgeoned in the face with a Fistful of Knuckles!! *POW!*

As with anything in life, you have to appreciate what you have in front of you. You have to see the adventure and excitement of what can be, and not the fear and resentment of what has got away, or what could have been. Without cold, you would never know warm. Without wet there is no dry, and without a past, there can be no now, and no future. I personally want a comparison chart with the women in my life. Because, if she's been with scumbags that broke her heart, treated her badly, or was just a waste of space, then she's in for a pleasant surprise!! I'm a cooking, cleaning, poem writing, door opening, well groomed, highly articulate, properly educated, loving MACHINE!!! And, prove it on a daily basis. Whereas, if she had no comparison, she would never know the treasure that lies at her feet.

No, weak men and women want the person with NO experience in life or love, because then there is no standard to live up to. The issue with that is, if there is no standard, then when presented with something or someone "slightly" better than what stands next to them, they jump to it. A heart without scars has seen no battles, and therefore knows not what peace and tranquility can be like. I may be a scotch drinking, cigar smoking, cursing animal of a human, but I know what respect, dignity, admiration, kindness, and support are, and I am not afraid to add them to my arsenal when going into the war call Love. I need a woman that makes me proud to stand beside her. Strong enough to face the world, but soft and gentle enough to make me feel loved. I want to be her anchor, but also be her cannon. I want her to be strong, beautiful, caring, and intelligent. Brave, adventurous, cunning and fun. She should be everything I love, and everything I am missing. She must be the missing chapter to my newest book, because we should never stop writing, especially when the topic is love.

Which brings me to the other topic. Love.

In college, I wrote a 6 page paper on how Vagina was the biggest economical advantage to the economy and Big Business. Men, as a whole, begin at puberty with this idea. You wake up thinking about women (some about other men, but i'm using women in this example), and go to sleep thinking about women. You go to the gym to get ripped, to get the attention of women. You hit high school and realize that if you dress cooler, act smoother, wear cologne/shower more often, then you get better quality of women. Then  you hit college and realize: If you're more educated, you'll get a better job, make more money, to get cooler clothes, drive a cooler car, to go to the coolest bars/clubs, so you can...you guessed it...get the hotter chick. Then, you hit a certain age, and after spending ALL of that money, you realize - - -> "I wasn't chasing the right thing. I was chasing vagina, when I should have been chasing companionship."

I was lucky enough to have always known this. To me, Love is an art form. It's colorful. It's elegant. It can make you smile. It can make you sad. It can lift your spirits, or drop you to your knees. Love is what this world needs more of, but many have no clue where to find it, what to do with it once they have it, let alone what to do if it starts to falter.

No, love is the center of the universe and belongs in everyone's heart. With that said, let's put the books inbetween the bookends.

Without the knowledge that Love is the be-all and end-all of this world, and without the Wisdom to know what to do once you have it, then you will never truly find happiness. When people stop acting like a Cunt-Cookie and nitpicking at someone's past they are now with, then they will pick the person apart until the only thing left is an empty shell, and when you look back you will realize that it was you that peeled away the layers of love, looking for the rotten pieces that were ever-so-tiny on the inside. As with the Boogey Man, if you stare into the closet long enough, you will find what you're looking for. But, if you love, accept, forgive, and build anew, then you can set aside differences and create your own future, your own NOW, and be happy living in what you have.

So, my fellow fuckholes, look inside your hearts and realize that it's love you should work hard for. It's love you should strive to secure in your life. It's love that you desire and need. Stop seeking perfection, because it doesn't exist, because more often than not, if someone held a mirror up to you, then you wouldn't feel so perfect yourself.

Write poems, and build smiles from pain. Create new adventures. If you've been hurt, don't take it out on others, just let the wounds heal, and share the scars, but never...ever...let it prevent you from taking the risk of loving again. When you look back on the books that you've written, and the many chapters of your Life that have filled these books, then let your story be one of overcoming hardship, seeking love, finding compassion in your heart for others' pains, and helping the ones you love to find a world that is a place that is worthy to live in, and not one they fear.

Why? Because, I fucking said so. That's why.

Always with love,
And, sometimes a dirty thought or two,
- Knuckles

A Game of Chess That No One Should Ever Win

Good afternoon Knuckleheads. It's a lovely day here in the middle of fucking Knuckleville. I sit here with a glass full of kerosene, smoking a tree trunk, and pondering at that has fallen behind me, and flops in front of me in this journey I call life.
It always brings me back to the same word that makes the world spin, wars happen when it's not present, and smile spread like crabs in a locker room.

Love.

Yeah, yeah, yeah..."But, Knuckles, you've covered this topic to death."; Well, if that were true, then those of you that read my blog should be in happy relationships that have no issues, and you should live loving and fruitful lives. Right? No? Well, then shut the fuck up, sit down, and enjoy this eyegasm I'm about to unleash upon you.

Because, after a little thought, and reflection, I realized that love is a lot like a game of chess. It's turn based. You move, they move, you move, they move. It's give and take. The only difference is, no one should be playing to win, and the person that moves two or three times in a row, doesn't win, but is actually the loser. Why? Because the other person doesn't care enough to take their turn. So, what happens is, you keep moving and moving, but the other person gets up, goes and plays checkers or Xbox with someone else, and you're sat at your board, wondering why you're locked into this game, with someone that doesn't really want to play with  you to begin with.

You see, you should never retool your life for someone, unless their actions support the effort. Would that person make those same overwhelming efforts that you make, that mirror your effort? Move for Move? If not, reevaluate your approach, and ask yourself the hard questions. "Am I putting more into this chess match than I'm getting out?" "Does this person take their turns after I take mine? Or, if they see that they've waited so long between turns, that I've taken three, so they step up and take three themself?" "Is it really worth it to continue playing, if I'm just playing by myself?"

When you get to be my age, relationships are far more important than when you're younger. You pick and choose more wisely. It's not based upon just one or two factors, but a list of things. You are, in fact, choosing a life mate, and not just a one night stand. So, you want the person on the receiving end of your attention to put as much into it as you do. And, if you're being a chump personally, then you need to realize that a plant doesn't grow without nourishment and water, so when it dies from lack of attention, who is the one to blame? You are. You fucking dildo.

To walk around holding someone's hand to me is the symbol of love and happiness. When you want to feel connected to the person you're walking with, even though they are inches away, speaks volumes to me. You want to feel their touch, their warmth, their existence, in the palm of your hand. It's the same when you sleep next to a person you love. You feel them breathe. You wake them up when having a nightmare. You are there for them, and they are there for you. An adult relationship is about depth, involvement, and support. It's about supplying what the other person needs, desires, and requires to stay happy. But, it's a two way street, and you should expect that same effort in return. So, don't do one big thing, and think that's good for the year...no, it's about small, strategic moves that give the sense of comfort. It's about action, and effort, and words, and communication. (can't stress that last one enough) Don't run from things that are important to the survival of your love. No, stand tall, and face it with open arms. Because, the conciliation prize in the world of Love, is not as pretty.

Just remember; Friends, pets, jobs, bills, politics, and other skulduggery are not nearly as important as having someone there for you to cry on their shoulder, feel their breath on your neck while you sleep, plan your future with, and most of all, to hold your hand as you take your last breath on this Earth.

Above all, don't be a fuckhole. No one likes a fuckhole.

Honestly yours,
Knuckles

Passion Froot Loops

How goes it Knuckleheads? Today's nugget of wisdom comes to you by the letter P. For once, it's not Punk, Pussy, or Pumpernickel. No, today it's all about Passion.

"Passion for what?" you ask?

Passion for EVERYTHING!! You see, I have been walking through this world for quite some time now. I see the actions, ideas, and functions of people, and it intrigues me. My biggest issue with the direction of how humanity is going is passion.

I believe people have lost their passion for most things. As a society, as a race (human, for you fucking idiots that thing ethnicity is a race), and as a culture...we have lost passion for all things beautiful. For example; I love to cook. I love to cook to the point that I will be working, and see a spice, and plan a meal around it, just to taste a hint of the spice I see. I know someone I care about is sick, it makes me crave cooking a chicken noodle soup that only I can create, just for them. That, my friends, is passion.

Long gone are the days where you hear of a band, group, or musical artist living out of a van just to make it from venue to venue to play his or her music for a small group of people that appreciate the words they convey, or the chords that they pluck. Long gone are the days where an painter doesn't try to make a million dollars off of one painting. (sidenote: Long gone are the days of the painter, sculptor, or what have you, because things are so mass produced, there is no market for them)

People "Like" things now. "Love" things. "Oh, I'm an actor, and I love it.". But, would you be willing to do it if you lived out of your car, and had to travel the world for peanuts? People love the prestige. The idea. People romanticize about the fame, glory, and name that comes with being an athlete, or an actor. But, no one eats, breathes, and bleeds what they love any longer.

Passion. A name synonymous with sex. A name that literally means: intense emotion: intense or overpowering emotion such as love, joy, hatred, or anger.

Yet, we cannot encompass it any longer. I have never dated a woman, that the word Passion did not enter my head. I have never chased a dream, that I didn't have a passion for. I will die in the street, before I find something I just "like" to do, and pretend it's a passion. In the bedroom, in the street, in our lives, we need more passion. If it's a particular care. Be passionate about it. Don't just like it. Learn why it's awesome. Learn the horsepower. Learn the manufacturer specs. Learn as much as you can, and then learn more. If you're passionate about an artist, find out as much as you can. If you're in love, figure out new ways to impress your loved one to the point they have no idea why you love them so much. Be passionate. Be more than "like".

I'm tired of a society of Like. I'm sick of a society of talentless, generic, simple process people. I'm over the idea of mass production of artistic talent. (i.e. posters of Van Gough, Michaelangelo, or so on...) I love strong. I create strong. I live strong. (not like those pussy ass yellow arm bands, but as a literal fact) I will never make love to a woman I do not feel passionate about. I will never accept a movie role that I do not feel passionate about the script. I will never listen to music that doesn't touch my soul on some kind of passionate level.

Even something as simple as you guys, makes my heart flutter, blood boil, and mind expand. That isn't generic. That is a passion of writing, with a bi-product of readers.

Few things in life remind us of life. But, creating, loving, and embodying, are a few things that make you appreciate being human. Appreciate the value of things we can accomplish in our lifetime. To witness things you aren't capable of, makes me see passion in other people. Whether it's artistic or not.

The world needs less money, and more passion. Less hate, and more love. Less propaganda and more truth. But, we as humans need to get back to what we know best...passion.

Fuck harder. Love stronger. Writer deeper. Draw cleaner. Act happier.

Be passionate.

- With sincerity,
Knuckles

A Fistful of Fuck You 2012!!

Hello all!! Welcome to the final hours of 2012. One of the most roller coaster years that I have seen in my own life, society, and the world in quite some time. From election shit, to people arguing over rights and violations of such rights, we may have all lost a friend or two, gained some, witnessed the unveiling of others "true colors", and generally have been left with a foul taste in our mouths.
Countries have been in turmoil. Apocalypses have been avoided. (due to it being sheer stupidity to begin with) Economies have tanked. Many lives have been lost, but above all I think we have all learned a bit more about ourselves, and those we surround ourselves with.
I personally can say I have a new verve for life. I have released a few people from my life, but gained a few others. I have learned that people can learn to be more accepting, while others can be swayed with something as simple as a meme they see on Facebook or twitter. But, all in all, I can say I have survived this all intact, and a bit wiser for my journey.

Now, as we embark on what can only be known as "A new year", we must all focus more on being better individuals and a better society. Reassess your morals. Reassess your assertiveness. Learn to make sacrifices. Learn more compassion. Be open minded, and if you don't truly know of a subject, don't listen to here-say, do some research, and make your own judgement after doing so. Give more. Ask for less. If someone has done a kind action for you, then think of a way to reciprocate that same generosity. Life is about connections. Connecting with new people to find new friends, new love, and possibly a new journey. Connecting with yourself on an intimate, honest basis. Learning what your faults are and making an honest effort to repair them. Even the most mighty oak needs to trim off the dead limbs to continue to be strong and sturdy.

Everyone: Fuck more. Live more. Travel more. Explore more. Read more. Enjoy more. Kiss more. Cuddle more. Hug more. It's all good energy. I use the saying "Play through the pain." a lot. I think it can be relevant to many aspects of life. Loneliness. Sadness. Physical pain. Emotional pain....or whatever...just play through it, learn from it and repair it. Then, move on. Be better for your mistakes. Just because you are alive, does not mean you're living. Be the person that your 10 year old self wanted to be.

Couples: Make an honest effort to argue less, and care more. Give backrubs out of nowhere. Sneak a kiss on the others cheek when they least expect it. Write a poem and hide it where you know they'll find it during the day. Find a little time to look them in the eyes and ask them with sincerity how they are. Not at that moment, but in general. It goes a long way to know someone cares at a cellular level. Never be stand-offish. It creates walls. No matter what the subject is, sit down, and hash it out like adults and be transparent with one another. Love is rare...in any form...so find ways to hold onto it, because, take my word for it, when it's gone, it hurts more than the moment that is causing the chaos.  Be the parent/uncle/aunt/guardian that you always wished you'd had when you were a kid.

Individually, just strive to be a better person. If you think you've hit a wall in life, look for a door, if you can't find a door, look for a window, if you can't find a window, look for a sledgehammer and start hammering away, because the thing about walls, is they can all be torn down. Be brave. Take risks. Life is a challenge, and you will ALWAYS be tested and you will ALWAYS need to be prepared to rise to the occasion. So, know that things will be rough, and know that no matter what, you will have support from the ones that love you, and therefore you should try to be as "lovable" as possible.

But, most of all, enjoy your motherfucking journey. Stop setting so many goals, and just make a checklist for life. "Goal" is a strong word. When you fail one, you feel a deep resentment towards yourself, and a sense of being a failure. But, a checklist for life, just enables you to move to the next box and shoot for it, and maybe try to come back to the one you didn't achieve before. As I read the other day, "Enjoy today, because you just exchanged a day of your life for it.".

Be proud of whom you are. Be comfortable in your own skin. Be accepting of diversity, and difference, because if we were all the same, then life would just be generic. We love to look at different flowers of all shapes and sizes, so why can't we apply that to our own damn race? (human race)

Now, as I head off to work my way through this New Year, I want you to all think of me, have a drink or two in my honor, and know that if you're reading this, that I genuinely care for you and love you. There are far too many negatives in this life to concentrate on them. There are far too many things to be afraid of, to not learn to be brave. But, there are far too few Knuckles on this planet, for you to not love me for who the fuck I am.

So, cheers...slainte...salud...salute...to all of my Knucklers...

Go get a skinful, pissed ass drunk, and when you're hungover tomorrow, scream out my name, and I shall give you the secret to life...

Happy 2013 One and All!!!!

- Johnny "Knuckles" Mangano

P.S. Stay away from Jagermeister for New Years, that shit's for 18 year old's and is a motherfucking cursed beast of a hangover.

P.P.S. *fist bump* Yeah....I still do fist bumps.

The Power of the Positive Mindfuck

Hello my Fistful of Readers. And, welcome to yet another rant by yours truly. Today I will be talking about a couple of different things, that tie together like a pearl necklace. No, not THAT pearl necklace! The type that Marge Simpson wears. A big nugget of wisdom, strung together to another nugget of wisdom. Let's just dive right in, shall we?

For years growing up I found myself looking forward to the Holidays. As soon as that nip hit the air, it was obvious that the holiday landslide was about to come barreling through. First, it would be Halloween. That time of year where you can hide behind a mask, and pretend to be someone else for a day or two. Then (my favorite) was Thanksgiving. A day devoted to eating and spending time with people that supposedly loved you unconditionally. Then, came Christmas. Now, mentally, I've never been on board with any religious belief or connotation. But, Christmas was fucking magical. Not Harry Potter or Elton John type magical. But, it had the power to turn the grumpiest of fucks into people that would hurry to open a door for someone carrying a large package, or help someone up that had busted their ass on a sheet of black ice. It was the time of year that you knew Rudolph would be on TV, and jingly bells and sparkling lights would be on every lamp post and every window. Generally, I loved that whole 3 month stretch. The warmth of the house, the feeling of impending meals with family, and the love that seemed to infect the air everywhere you went.

Then....

Something fucking happened along the way to the New Year. These three months that I speak of have done something quite different to everyone. People no longer think about the meals, the family, the TV shows...they want to slit their own wrists because they can't afford to buy gifts for everyone in their family. They rush through Thanksgiving dinner so they can get the tent out and head to Best Buy because they have a chance at getting a 60" tv for $1.00. People humbug, more than they hug. (which pisses me off, because i'm a hugger) 

Look, I get that the financial crunch puts people in stressful situations, and moods, but it's not about money people. It's deeper than that. 

I'm an Atheist, and even though I didn't know there was a word for what I was until I got older, as far as I know, I've always been one. I put on the tap shoes and did the old song and dance every now and then so that people wouldn't shun me, or so I could have friends, but in my heart of hearts, I knew what my feelings were. Yet, I still supported and encouraged the "Feeling of Christmas". Because, at it's root, it's benefiting and not harming. But, it's no longer benefiting. People are more hung up on what they can "give or get" than the human experience that once existed. If you took away the value of what's in the box, and replaced said gift with...let's say...a rock, in everyone's hand, what would people think? What would their reaction be? Mine would be "Awww, thank you! Now I have something to throw at the heads of all the materialistic fuckwits that have lost the true meaning of the Holidays.", and then give them a hug. But, we know that wouldn't be the reaction of the majority of society. No. People are more depressed, angry, bitter, annoyed, anxious, and every other Eeyore emotion that I can think of at this time of year. People get annoyed at hearing Christmas Carols. They scoff at how many Christmas cartoons are on television. They seem to roll and revel in the darkness that embodies the holidays, and the momentum just seems to be growing.

Which, brings me to my next bit of fuckery: Cheer the fuck UP people!! 

Okay, I know that the way I rant, grind, bitch, and complain that you think that I'm bitter and angry at the world. Which, you couldn't possibly be more wrong. I actually piss people off with my positive spin on the majority of situations. "I'm starving! I have no food!" "Well, at least you'll lose a few pounds. And, look at it this way, when you DO get some food, it will taste better than you could have ever imagined." "Fuck you Johnny." "Come here and give me a hug." "No. Fuck you." 

Sorry...went a little far on that one...

But, it just annoys me at the negativity in everyone. Here, look at it this way; I don't care whether you're Christian, Atheist, Muslim, or Buddhist, you can admit to one thing...from the moment you're born, your physical body is a ticking time bomb that is going to explode out of existence one day. Gone. Kablooey. Yet, people fill their days with such negative words, and thoughts that they just piss away perfectly good seconds, of perfectly good minutes, of perfectly good....well, you get my drift. 

Your clock is ticking you stupid fuck. You could get a stiddy tomorrow and die in a year. You could step off the curb while texting the person you love and get eaten by a dragon....or....is it hit by a bus....some fucking thing. Needless to say, you are dying with each minute that passes. So, when you use words like: can't, won't, shouldn't, never, and even hashtags like #fml (fuck my life for those non-nerds) or other negative shit, you are implanting negative thoughts, energy and feelings into yourself that grown, and expand, and eat away at your psyche. 

I catch a lot of shit for my borderline narcissism. It annoys people when you say you're smart, or handsome, or the life of the party. They want you to be modest, and humble, and (in my mind) weak. But, why? I know my time bomb is ticking, and it will pop when it damn well wants to, and I want to feel like I lived like a motherfucking rockstar when I go out. I want to feel like I was as good looking as I could be. Successful as I could have possibly been, and that this world was MINE!!! If I'm good at something, I want to feel like I'm the best at it. Not, "I'm okay at it I guess.". Fuck that! That's loser talk. Is that how you want to sound on your deathbed? "I was okay at a few things. Generally kind of average." That's not modesty, that's a sad sack of shit is what that is. Own your life. People want you to be modest and humble, because they have insecurities and they don't want anyone feeling (or being) better at things than they are. Be confident. Be assertive. Be charismatic. Be proud. 

Now, don't take that and say "I'm ONLY going to think of myself.", because that's not what I'm saying. Give, love, donate, embrace...but, never feel inferior. Negative words, negative thoughts, and negative reactions only create more of said things. Feelings and thoughts are like a virus, and they spread quickly and without fear. If you have a Happy High, chances are you're going to ride that high and things will shine brighter, feel warmer and be more uplifting. But, if you bottom out on your feelings and thoughts, they snowball, and that's an even harder pattern to break.

Short of being just blatant and telling you that you're a fucking moron for not being happy (no matter what your situation is, because believe me, i've been on rock bottom, and there's always some glimmer of light to concentrate your soul on following), I'm going to tell you to try and change your mindset. It's hard, believe me. I didn't get to this mentality in one day. It takes practice. It takes stepping out of situations mentally and evaluating them as quickly as you can, trying to find a positive spin, and then stepping back in, on a routine basis before you start to see it more often, and respond more quickly when you feel negativity encroaching on your situation and thoughts.

So, with all of that said, I'll leave you with this; Let's as a whole, put the "Happy" back in Happy Holidays. Let's put our fingers on the pulse of those we love around us, and if it feels dark and bitter, try and help them find that flicker of light in the darkness. But, ultimately, as the Human Race, let's remember that love, brotherhood, and family is what makes this world tolerable. If you strip away the clothes, tv's, ipods, and money, we're left with a fleshy shell that embodies feelings, emotions, thoughts, and heart. Concentrate on that, and fix what's broke, and highlight what's well, and ultimately...just maybe...we can figure out how to love one another a little easier.

That's enough for now, remember...think positive, be happy...and most of all...know that I'm better than you.

Sincerely your Secret Santa,

Tony Stark.....I mean....Knuckles

Fucking Ugly Hot Broads....

Here is the flaw in Beautiful Women: If you tell them that they are beautiful, they don't believe you. If you use the word "Gorgeous", then you want to fuck them (and let's face it, sometimes it's true...because, honestly, who doesn't want to fuck a gorgeous human?). And, anytime you use the word "Stunning!", they wonder why you're using such a big word to describe them.

Look women, take note: You are ALL beautiful to someone. Every-Single-Fucking-One-Of-YOU!!! So, when someone, one day, starts up an awkward conversation with you...and says you caught his eye, don't fire back with "Why?". It took that man WEEKS of courage to build up the gumption to say that! He 1) Assumed you were already taken, because he thinks you're so amazing. 2) So hot, that he perfected the best way to say what he wanted to say without sounding like a sleazeball, or a pervert...and 3) He is paying you a compliment. Whether he wants to bone you or not...it's a compliment. Take it initially! Then, feel the guy out. Nooooo....idiot...not feel his trouser snake....the personality, the intention...the reason he's so into you. Believe it or not, most of the time we have good intentions. It's your response that determines where it goes from there. Say, for instance, I approach a woman in a mall that I find MADLY attractive, and say "Hello. There's really not many ways to do this properly, but I find you quite attractive, and I was wondering if you would want to have a drink with me sometime?", and you reply back with "Why would I want to have a drink with some random guy that approached me in the mall?"...*BANG!* here you go....you flipped your Bitch Switch for no reason. He was being kind, and appropriate, and articulate, and you got all Sheniqua on his ass. Well, here's where it goes from here: If he has the charisma to actually talk to women, he will finally convince you to have the drink, continue to woo you, and then pay you back for being a bitch to him, by dropping your ass like Snooki's ass in a techno club. Option 2 is, if you're not feeling the chemistry, but you're a nice human, you say "Thank you. That is so kind, but I'm currently not dating, and prefer to just stay with my girlfriends for awhile."....and then, you have the final...and wonderful...outcome: "That is so sweet. And, I know, it's not easy to approach someone in public, but...yes, you look sincere...let me get your number and we'll see if we can't meet up at a party or something with me and my friends?"

There you have it. We men, look for mates for life also. We have NO idea how to approach you without offending you, causing chaos, or just generally pissing you off. We DO know that if we speak properly, stand up straight (like mama said), and are honest, then we SHOULD receive the same respect.

Here's the sitch...the reason you are attracted to us, and we're attracted to you is for mating purposes. That's just science. So, yes, ultimately, your phrase "You just wanna fuck me!" is invalid, because it is true, in a primal sense. I want to be with you, marry you, reproduce with you (or at least practice doing so), and die with you. But, the attitude that goes along with it...whether questioning, judgmental, disrespectful, or what-have-you...that, well, determines how much turmoil you endure in your future.

Even yours truly has had his heart broke a few times. Yup! I've been the DUMPEE, as often as I've been the DUMPER!! (when i pull a curb job, it's usually for valid reasons that are not aligning for the future of the relationship....which usually include: you're a psycho bitch, and i didn't know this until we started dating)

So, I know...

I was quite shy in my youth. I say "Quite.", but mean, VERY....

I kind of accepted girls that thought I was cute, no matter what their personality was, because I felt inadequate. Then, I finally found out, that we are human...and all humans will EVENTUALLY (by the rule of ratio) find another human that is equally attracted to them, as vice versa. So, I began my life of experiments (a.k.a "dating"), and have enjoyed myself ever since.

At heart, I am a romantic. I speak the truth, and I pull no punches. "Do I look fat in these jeans?" "Nope, you look like you have Jean Colored Skin!"

But, I am also quite sympathetic with the hurdles that women have created for themselves over the years. Which, now, turns out to be more of a competition with one another, than for the attention of a man of value. Because, you know as well as I do, no man gives a shit about your name brand shoes, belt, purse, or nail polish...We want value. Well, men of value, want value.

Another thing that irks me is the "Oh, you only talked to me because...", idea. If you're overweight, you think we're a Chubby Chaser. If you're Black, we have a thing for the Chocolate...Little....Tall...Skinny...you're all fucking so paranoid to the point of loneliness that you finish scaring the good ones off, and leaving nothing but room for the scum. Which, if that's what you want, fine...but if not, listen to my words:

It's a RULE OF RATIO!!! For every attractive female that I tell (honestly) is attractive....1 out of 50 will think I'm sincere. (i dare you to prove me wrong...ask any man) I, myself, am an honest flirt. Not a flirt in the sake of "Let's fuck!", but a flirt in the sake of; Your husband is present, and I'll still say "If only you weren't married.....Oops! Paul, didn't see you there!" HA! Laugh. Giggle. But, you know what, it's an honest compliment, mixed with a worthwhile quip. But, if you have a broad that thinks "Did you hear how Johnny was acting tonight?"...then, things go screwy. Because, here's the thing, I learned a looooooooong time ago, that life is short. If you weren't told you were pretty today, and I can do so, then I will fucking say it. No holds barred. If you look good, I will say so. If you don't, then I will pass on the comment altogether. But, there are those unique few...those...guiding stars...that I go after, and I'll admit, you have to throw a few darts before you hit the Bullseye, but sometimes...there's that ONE!!! And, you say what you mean, and mean what you say and you get....."But, why me?"..............

Fucking really? "Why me?" Now, I feel so deflated that my words mean nothing to you that I want to say, "Because, you have tits?"...because, I feel so emasculated after telling you something honest, that you questioned the validity of, that now I feel the need to hide it with a joke, lie, or a jab.

You see? Your insecurity, is what fuels our response, and vice-versa.

Anyhow, that's enough, you get the point.

Stop being stuck up, shy, and precautionary...

For fuck's sake, if some guy says "YOU'VE GOT NICE TITS!!!", prove him right....

- Forever -

Knuckles

A Fistful of Monsters in my Closet...

"Concentrate long enough on a focal point of negativity, and it will consume you wholly." ~ Knuckles

I submit to you, my version of self help for the weak minded fuckwit.

Well, I guess you can be one or the other, or both, and still need this advice, but it will definitely shine some light on all the above.

Negativity is a monster. I mean a real bad, PMS'ing, fire spewing, cunt of a monster. It causes hate. It causes depression. It causes anger, and resentment, and fear, and a whole slew of other shit. Negativity also causes us to see shit with a slanted view. Now, I for one admit to submitting to this demon from time to time. It's a constant uphill battle to fight off this raging whoremonster, but I do a damn good job. But, what I've also learned is that it's harder to UNDO the effects of Negativity than it is to prevent it.

Imagine this:

You're a child. Maybe, 5 or 6 years old. You've got loving parents that buy you nice clothes, fun toys, and have given you a comfortable life. In your bedroom you have your walls painted to your idea of fun specifications, your toys are where you like to keep them, and your clothes are hung neatly in your closet.

One night, you go to bed, and you leave your closet door slightly open, and (unbeknownst to you, there's a sweater sleeve hanging out on the doorknob, a la Monster's Inc) you are in your bed, with the lights out before you notice this. Something goes *bump* in your closet and #POOF!# your sanctuary has all of a sudden become your tomb. You stare into this void...you stare...and stare...and try to make out what it was that made that noise, and you eventually see the sleeve slide off the handle and "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!! IT'S A GOT-DAMNED MONSTER!!!" *BANG!* under your sheets you go to hide, where you are nearly pissing your pants, and you do your best to stay awake until the sun comes up.

Now, as a child, you'll eventually fall asleep, and awaken and wearily open your closet door to find nothing there. But, now the bug has been planted. "There's something in there!" Now your room doesn't feel so bright and happy. You don't see it as Disneyland anymore. More like a torture chamber of doom that some horrible beast is going to jump out and chew off your little cocktail shrimp sized weenie. (I'm a boy, we think of weird shit like that)

=

Now, this is where I like to relay my 90%-10% view on life. You see, that closet consumed that kid...one little fucking thing...consumed his thoughts, his day, his life...and, after checking to see if there was something there, and finding nothing, all he had to do was reassure himself nothing was there, and move on. But, something that was 10% of his day, became 100% thereafter.

Here's where we do this with adults. Say for instance you hear at Church that it's wrong to be gay. You'd never heard that, but you hear it from your Pastor/Preacher/Priest. You go home, and type into Google: Being Gay is Wrong...and KABOOM!!...a million things pop up and you start reading it. You read it into the night, and go to bed thinking about it. Now, you've piqued your interest, and you go back to some of those pages you visited the previous night, at work the next day. The more you read things from "People that know this for a fact" (self proclaimed), the more you feel like YOU know it as fact as well. Now, you start asking around, and find similar minded people to talk about it with. The next thing you know...you're at ant-homosexual rallies spouting bigoted verbality at anyone that will listen.

You had a perfectly happy life. Full of love, happiness, and kindness...and the Negativity consumed you to the point that you forgot about the 90%, and started focusing on the monster in the closet.

=

I see the same thing happen with my friends that are unemployed, or just out of a loving relationship that suddenly failed, or their life just isn't going the way they want. But, they have a friend like me to turn to...a good friend...that's 10% on it's own. They normally have family, that's 10%. A roof over your head -> 10%....and the numbers keep adding up. But, it's that Negative 10% that keeps their attention. I've written blogs before about how these fucked up partners in relationships find a man or woman that is 90% of what they wanted, but they fart in their sleep, or watch Jersey Shore, or some other knuckle dragging nonsense...and, that 10% encompasses them to the point that they start looking for someone that has the 10% that the person that they're with is missing, and eventually leave 90% for the 10% person, and finish unhappy and realize they fucked up when it's too late.

Look cock-knot, we all have a miserable beast in our closet. The best thing to do, is to nut up, and get your weak minded ass out of bed and kick the fucking door shut with authority, and choose happiness/positivity. Because if you walk through life looking into the closet, you're never going to play with your toys, paint your room, hug your parents, or crank on your noodle the same way again. You're constantly going to be looking over your shoulder at that crack in the door and peering inside to see that lack of a job, or that broken heart, or that exploded fuck doll. (or whatever else saddens you)

I know, I know...it's harder than it sounds...but, Tomorrow's big brother is Today, and what Today says...Tomorrow will listen to.

So, do me a favor, and stop hating others. Stop dragging yourself through the mud. Stop focusing on shit that really has nothing that directly effects your day-to-day reality. Other people have their own demons to fight, without you being another one. Because, when you hate, or your down, or when you are just a fuckhole altogether...you sprout horns, grow a tail, and become one of those raging hatemongers, and who wants that to be their legacy?

Kick that door shut. Live in the light. Embrace love. Duct tape that hole in your fuck doll and get back to plowing it, because Tomorrow just told me that Today said "I may not be at the party tomorrow, so toss one back for me!"

I love you all. You inspire me to write. You give my mind a constant workout. And, some of you give me a reason to rub one out. So, to all of you, thank you...you make my heart love more, my brain more intelligent and my....well....we'll leave it at that.


Monsterously yours,

Knuckles

There's No Other Place That I'd Rather Be...

I've been around this world many times. I've seen other countries, other cities, other continents...but, no other place on this planet has felt like Home, quite like Los Angeles, California. Many years ago, I rolled into L.A. with little-to-no idea of what I was getting myself into. I remember driving in with the U-Haul behind me and passing through various shady neighborhoods and thinking to myself "Fuck me. What have I gotten myself into?", and then pulling around a corner from North Hollywood, into Studio City. Immediately after I crossed under the 101 Freeway it was like Dorothy walking out of her house into Oz for the first time. What was previously gray and dark, was now green and sunny. I pulled into Archstone Studio City and found myself to be in a haven of luxury. I looked over to the olympic sized swimming pool and saw the sunlight dancing off of it. The sun beat warmly on my face, but I wasn't miserable. Unlike the East Coast, or the Midwest, this heat was pleasant. Almost, comforting. I took a deep breath, stretched my creaking bones from such a long trip, and smelled the most amazing things. Later I would find out that these were Lilac and Sage mixing together. Truly, one of the most incredible smells you will ever inhale. But, one of my favorite, and most unique smells of Southern California is hands down the Psoralea Pinnata, also know as the Grape Kool-aid Plant (obviously, because of the smell). That one, if no one tells you, will have you walking around scratching your head for days during the summer, trying to figure out "What the fuck smells so much like Grape Kool-Aid (or Grape Nerds)?!" Another of my favorite things of Los Angeles, is the cultural diversity. I have told many people that, if Canada fucked Mexico, Los Angeles would be it's offspring. Against many misconceptions, most Angelenos (regardless of skin color, country origin, or what-have-you) are very laid back, very kind, and overtly helpful. Granted, there is a Big City mentality, but...it's a big city. I just LOVE hopping on the subway (yes, L.A. has a subway), and zipping down to Little Tokyo to see friends, have authentic Asian cuisine, or to just feel an escape from the world. You can always find a man pushing a cart down the street selling chicharrones (pork rinds), fruit, or tacos. (real tacos, not that Taco Bell bullshit) So, whether you want 5 Star Dining, or a taco from Pedro under the overpass, you're set for whatever your taste buds desire. Along those same lines, if you find the rare "Local/Born and Raised" Angeleno, they are usually of some kind of mixed parentage. "My Mom is Mexican, and my Dad is Russian." "My Mom is Persian, my Dad is Chinese." It's always interesting to see where the ride will take you. But, as I'm a foody, I love the fact you can get authentic food, from all nationalities (made by Mexicans..HA!), in any restaurant. If I was a big "shopper" I'd include how there's Robertson Boulevard, Rodeo Drive, the VAST multitude of malls...etc...but, I don't shop that much, so I'll leave that. I'm also leaving out "Hollywood". People mistake "Hollywood" and "Los Angeles" all the time. Yes, they are hand in hand, but you can live and exist in Los Angeles, and not have to be involved in Hollywood one bit. Granted, you'll still have the occasional run-in with a celebrity at your grocery store, but you never take pictures as others would expect, because we're both just trying to make a living in this city. One thing I should note that is a perk of Hollywood being in Los Angeles, is it brings every wanna-be model, actress, and singer to it's shores, which makes for some FABULOUS eye candy year 'round. Which brings me to my most desirable part of my home city. (after all, isn't Home where your heart is?) The topography of Los Angeles, and Southern California all together. From the moment you drive or fly into L.A., you see snow capped mountains, and the ocean, sandy beaches, tall palm trees, valleys, hills...it's all there. At certain times of the year, you can LITERALLY go snowboarding, and surfing in the same day. You can sit on the beach and watch the sun go down, breathing in the ocean air, and listening to crash of the waves. If you have your own board, you can drive up to Pointe Dume, paddle out and sit, silently, and listen to the ocean speak to you, and the random seagull pass over. Then, you can get in your car and drive over to Joshua Tree and walk 10 minutes into a desert, and find a giant rock, sit in the sun in what I can only describe as a sound vacuum. For awhile your ears ring, because they're always subjected to some noise pollution of some sort...but, after 30 minutes or so, you just hear...silence. Sometimes a lizard will scuttle off in the distance, but you can hear it with almost animalistic hearing, because there's nothing else out there to drown out the little rascal scurrying off. I can sit out there for hours. There are sooooo many more reasons I love Los Angeles, California. The up and coming musicians, the architecture, the history, the museums, the lifestyle...but, if I don't stop here, you're going to get tired of reading. So, here it is, a few of my many reasons I call L.A. home. Normally, I'm ranting, and raving, and angry at the world, but as you can see, there are some things that make a lasting impression on me, that I will always hold near and dear to my heart. There's no other place that I'd rather be. Truly, Johnny

A Fistful of Fuckery, a.k.a Valentines Day

It sure does cost a lot to show someone you love them nowadays. "Today, the holiday is big business: According to market research firm IBIS World, Valentine's Day sales reached $17.6 billion last year; this year's sales are expected to total $18.6 billion." [SOURCE] 
Throughout my 36 years on this planet, I have witnessed many a Valentines Day. (36, to be exact) Of all of those, the only time I liked Valentines Day was when I was a kid, and got to make a Valentines Box in grade school, that you hope all kids put in Valentines for you, (especially the cute girl), and then in High School where it was your one opportunity to buy something for the crush you had, in hopes that she would be wooed and you would spend the rest of eternity snuggling and holding hands. {side note: one year, towards the end of the Atari Era, we had a busted Atari, and I gutted it, and used the slot where you put the game in, as the slot for accepting my Valentines cards, and truly felt like fucking Einstein for thinking this up}
What I failed to realize at the time was, I was feeding into the Machine, and the women (vicariously) were learning some bad habits at the same time. You see, when you are told by the television, the radio, parents, friends, magazines, newspapers, and who-the-fuck-ever else that you need to buy something to impress the person you love/crush/wannafuck, you buy into it. So, you buy this girl some flowers, but then Ted the rich kid buys her flowers that are bigger and brighter, candy, a night at the movies, and a yacht....or so it felt. Your flowers are greeted with a "Aww, thank you.", and she turns on her heel to Ted, where he says something like "Aren't you Miss Popular today?! Har, Har, Har...." and they walk off giggling.
Now, don't get me wrong, not all women buy into this bullshit. Some are intelligent, quick witted, and see past the nonsense of it all. And, to you ladies, I salute you. But, with $18.6 billion annually, it's obvious that not all women and men get the hidden agenda behind this day.
Here's my thing, I have been in a few relationships. The ones I have been in, I gave my all to them. Poetry, love notes, random calls to tell them I love them, and most of all...extravagant meals that take blood, sweat, and talent to create. These relationships, obviously, all failed. To no fault of my own of course! *cough* *cough*
But, here's where I'm going with this. Growing up poor taught me something, love isn't about one day. Love isn't about what you can buy for the other person. Love is about what you're willing to give to the one you love. Time. Effort. Passion. Enthusiasm. Trust. Dedication. Discipline.....Your Life.
This is the true test of love. You give your all. Your soul bleeds with all things you feel, and you cringe at the thought of being away from this person, and you shake with anticipation at the thought of seeing them again. You cry when you think you've hurt them, but you skip when you think you've pleased them. All things I have mentioned, are free.
Many years ago, I figured it out. The true test of love comes to this: If you were on a deserted island. No TV, no radio, no media or correspondence with the outside world...Would it be possible to be in love. To show the person you loved them, and to remain in love?
Of-fucking-COURSE it's possible!! It's just bullshit to think that you need a card to express how you feel. It's stupid to think that Jake Gyllenhaal can show her how you love her better in a movie, than you can yourself at home. It's asinine that CHOCOLATE in a heart shaped box means "I love you." when you could have wrote her (no matter how shitty) a poem and put it in her lunch for work, or on her steering wheel of her car. Make her breakfast, and make your pancakes in the shape of hearts, or sing her a love song (Sinatra preferably) in your most broken and horrible voice. But, show the woman you love, that LOVE isn't based on a diamond, a brick of gold, or an 18.6 BILLION dollar industry. It's based on 365 days a year. It's based on the fact that you know in your soul of souls that you cannot live without this woman/man and you NEED them...not want them...in your life!! So, show them.
What happens if there's a day at work called "Work Day" when everyone works harder? Do you fuck off the rest of the year, and then work super hard on Work Day? Fuck no. Stupid. You'd get fired.
Therefore, stop sucking your left thumb, pull the right one out of your ass, and Man Up!! Real men know romance. Real men know passion. Best of all (read Shakespeare, Chaucer, Poe, Keats), MEN....know Love.

Love doesn't have a dollar sign in front of it. These women that say that they want a man that can "Supply me with what I'm worth." are shallow, and empty inside, and need something more than love......

No, your woman is your Queen. You are her King. To rule over a kingdom, you have to know how to please one another, before you can please the lands.

In finishing, I leave you with this thought:

On your deathbed, you are lying there with 1 minute to live...you can open a box of chocolates, and read a card...or you can gaze into the love of your life's eyes, while squeezing their hand that somehow has molded to fit yours perfectly over the years...you choose.

Me? Well, you know Knuckles, I'll be okay. I know love. I've felt it in the cockles of my heart. I know what I'm missing, and I know what I'm looking for...but for now...

I'm going to get me a hooker and buy her some candy, and hope she gives me an extra 30 minutes for free tomorrow.

Just sayin'....

I love you all....well...most of ya's....
-Johnny

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Shit!!

"You're live on KROQ miss, what's your question?" "My name is Angela, and my boyfriend that I've been dating for awhile, that I'm truly head over heels for, wants me to convert to Judaism, from Catholicism. I'm not super religious, but I wanted someone's opinion that isn't a part of the situation."

YOU GOT IT BIRD!!! I'm your huckleberry!

From as early as Romeo and Juliette, I've seen problems with "Birds of a feather, don't really flock together.", because, even if you're a bird (human), doesn't mean your feathers are the same color, your beak's the same size, or your shit is white enough. Maybe you like to dump on Hondas, instead of BMW's? Regardless, they're not fucking welcomed in other flocks.

Here you have a man, that sees exactly what he wants. She probably makes him warm and fuzzy, and his heart beat fast, and he wants to do things for her that he never felt for another woman. He wants to cook her dinner every night. He wants to travel the world with JUST her...not her and his friends... He wants to write her poems, and find her favorite flowers and surprise her with them.

He's smitten.

But, there's a problem. He's Jewish, and she's...well...not. Mom and Dad would have a coronary if he brought home a goy female. (non-jewish) Then, if they wrapped their minds around it, how do they explain it to the rest of the family?

Do you see a factor here folks? What is the problem with this scenario? Love, cannot conquer all, because FAITH stands in the way.

Faith: Firm belief in something, for which there is no proof.

Fact: Something that has actual existence.

Religion vs. Love

Here we have two people that could spend an lifetime of pure bliss, and happiness, and romance together, were it not for one simple thing, that people turn into a big thing. People die for both things. People kill for both things. People write books about both things. To me, the only difference is, one is commonly in our presence at all times, and we can see it, and touch it, and kiss it, and hug it...the other we have to have FAITH that it's there. (yes, many will argue that "I can see it. I can touch it. I can..."...you can shut the fuck up...because, no you fucking can't.

In a world that has less and less gentlemen, this woman found a man that she wants to spend her life with, but doesn't want to be given and ultimatum of "Convert, or there's no way we can be together.". You have a man, that was willing to look past her being goy, to date her, to get to know her, and to fall in love with her, and (from what i can gather) wants to spend the rest of his life with her, and wants them to have the least amount of resistance from his family, and therefore only sees one way he can do that.

Love...true love...people, is hard to find. I mean, REALLY hard to find. When you find it, do whatever it takes to hold on to it. Great things, sometimes require sacrifice. Take my word for it. I'm an Atheist, and 90% of the population isn't. So, I've had to come to grips with the fact that if I don't want to be alone forever, I will have to sacrifice my beliefs from time to time, and pick my battles, to have love. Not one woman I have dated in my past has ever been Atheist. I've been in a couple of incredible relationships, and I'm a believer in Quality over Quantity, and so if you're the kind of person that religion is only 0% to 5% of your life, then that should be something you should be willing to sacrifice for love. If religion is 80 to 90% of your life, then that is obviously something you need to find someone else with the same percentage.

This love thing, is a serious thing. It's necessary for life. Religion is not. If you take away Bibles, Quarans, and Torahs...and you have two people...living on an island, that are deeply and passionately in love, they will be just fine. They will reproduce. They will cuddle. They will kiss. They will fuck in the gritty sand until a jellyfish stings his balls and she has to piss.....wait...I got carried away.

Humanity is a fragile thing. Love, even more so. With the internet, social networking, online dating, texting, and so on taking over the world, a physical and emotional connection is a rare thing. When you find it, hold on to it like a case of the herpes, and don't let it go.

Because, at the end of a bad day, I'd much rather have someone that I sacrificed something to have in my life, greeting me at home with a hug, and a kiss, than an imaginary friend that I have to have faith that he's hugging me.

Plus, Religion never got me laid.

I have faith...that love can.

------

In closing; Bird, if Religion isn't a big deal to you, nor your family, I'd say do what you have to do for love. Love SHOULD conquer all. If he says it's a deal breaker that you don't...then chalk it up to the Relationship Fairy fucking with you.

But, make sure that whatever you do, no matter how much weight is in it, you do with your whole heart, or you'll always question yourself. Because, you never want to live in the "Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda"'s of life. Make your decision. Make it a sound one. And, love....love hard...love pure....love genuine....just love.

Sincerely,
Johnny

- - - (i wonder if using the word Love this many times in a blog will get me laid?)

A fistful of fistfuckery....just for you...

The day has come, you're in the office, the hot guy that you've noticed checking you out once or twice has finally started approaching your desk, he has two cups of coffee in his hands. "Hey, I didn't know if you took yours with cream or sugar, so I brought both.". You giggle, and take the coffee, and talk about passing thoughts about office behavior, and then you get a text message; "Hey honey, I changed the oil in your car yesterday because it was running low, and put air in your tires, did you notice it running any smoother?" You ignore it for now, and go back to the hot guy standing in front of you.

RED FLAG!!!

Look ladies, I of all people know that there is plenty of sweater meat in society. Hell, while living in L.A., there were more hot chicks than my whiplashed neck allowed me to look at, but one thing we've lost touch is....the effort a person that truly loves you, makes.

And, sadly, manly men...have a harder time expressing such emotion to you, that you seem to bypass such actions as 'non-efforts' or rudimentary.

Example: (let's go back a few years) You're in high school, and there's a guy that has noticed you from afar for the last two years. He has asked your friends what your favorite music is, and what groups and songs you like from each. He then proceeds to make you a mix tape. In the music world, this guy would be known for doing R&D. Here, it's a crush.

You're talking to Captain McRoid, the quarterback from the football team. "Yeah, I took state last year, but I think if I'm going to go pro, I need to step my game up." "That's interest..." "Hey, excuse me, I have been waiting to find a time when you're alone, but you seem to be always surrounded by someone, so...I just wanted to give this to you, and say I made it for you." "Thanks." "So, McRoid...what were you saying?"

Yes, it's extreme...but, it leads to bad behavior....like....pushing a girl in high school for a dude, usually leads to a wife beater in the future. Lack of acknowledgment of overwhelming actions, can lead to the demise of effort on the others behalf, lack of interest from your side, and even worse....you not being able to ever be satisfied by anothers actions.

Your significant other changed your oil, because he wants you safe. He wants you to be able to come home to him nightly, to the comfort of his arms. He watches action movies and imagines protecting you like Jason Statham, or Sylvester Stallone, and so when he gets done watching those, he starts telling you about the only fight he's ever been in, because he wants you to feel that he's your heroine, and you're his princess. He jerks off to porn...as odd as this one sounds for you ladies, because he doesn't want to be like the multitude of men out in this world that cheat on their wives by anything that moves. He tugs one out, so that he's not tempted to leave the woman he loves, by his damn 'other brain' outweighing his heartfelt one.

We men....we are an odd bunch, I'll give you that...we do some dumb shit, and sometimes admit to it, but moreso than that...we do a lot of dumb shit in your name. We act macho, to get your attention, to be your Alpha...we download a song illegally off the internet, because we want to show you, "I'd go to jail for you.", and we do some off the wall shit...to try and prevent McRoid from garnishing your attention.

Which means more to you, the guy that opens the door, or the super hot guy on the other side that says "Damn, you look hot!"....words....words are easy....efforts, efforts are what set us aside from others.

So, ladies, the next time you're in a situation where a man does something for you (unless you paid him for it), think and rethink where this is coming from. Think about how much time and effort he put into it, and think about what kind of response he's looking for, because if you start pushing his efforts aside as simple 'tasks', then he'll find someone that will appreciate the effort he puts forth.

This also goes vice versa...girls going to action flicks with their man...going to Hooters to watch UFC...watching Sunday and Monday Night Football....men need to pay attention too.

Well, that summarizes that....and so, the next time your man talks of tugging one out...don't go to the chick thought, "Is he tired of having sex with me? Is he attracted to all those girls on the internet?" No, he wants to stay faithful to you...and, that's his way of showing you so.


Tuggingly yours,
Johnny

Anti-Social Media....

Welcome to the topic that eats at my soul like Mel Gibson chews a phone line. Social-fucking-Media...in this case, Facebook. I've learned that there are a few good things about it, but more bad things than good.
What is Facebook you ask? It's a website that you go to, to see how much better or worse you're doing than your ex-girlfriend or high school buddy. It's a place where you can write "I NEED COFFEE!!" and 20 little Thumbs Up icons with the word "Like" will pop up underneath it 20 minutes later.

But, mostly, it's a place to reconnect with people that you intentionally lost contact with to begin with.

"JOHNNY!!! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!?!" - "Trying to fucking avoid you for the last 20 years....seems I'd make a horrible secret agent."

It boggles my mind that people I went to high school with (minus a select few) want to contact me, when I obviously didn't like them then, and I got the fuck out of my Podunk Town as fast as I could. Not one of these people searched for a number to call me at, or an address to write me for nearly 15 years. Yet, when "We're getting our graduating class back in contact!" is as easy as plugging in a name, and clicking "Send Friend Request" enters the world...then every knucklehead you ran from, all of a sudden wants to see your Photo Albums.

Oddly enough, that isn't the part that irks me the most. Nope, I can deal with Stupid better than most. My big gripe is Religion in Social Media.

Here you have people that you had too many differences with, that you left behind to find friends of similar likeness, posting their ideas, thoughts, and feelings on a daily (sometimes minutely) basis. The friend that befriended you on Facebook that goes to church every Sunday. The friend that came out of the closet in college. The friend that went to war in Iraq. The friend that...

Each went their own path, and created a new existence, a new pack of animals to run with, and a new family circle....but then.....it happens:

"May God bless me today, because I am about to cut the grass, and I want to do it to His liking!"

I know what you're thinking, "He's going to say 'What in the homemade fuck is that shit?!'!!", because I'm an Atheist, aren't you?

No, that isn't what bothers me, it's that, as I've said before...opinions are like assholes...everyone has one.

The part that pisses me off is that it creates a rift, when the opinionated person has to write "Keep that shit to yourself, I don't want your Bible Knockin' bullshit on my Facebook.", and then incites a riot of comments from the Church Going types, to everyone else, ultimately ending in someone being deleted.

I get it all the time. I'm an Atheist-Straight Man-that embraces Gay people and their right to get married-Ethnic Equality-and drinks scotch like it's going to put out a fire, and smokes cigars like they're made of pussy....and so you can imagine the types of comments I get from my posts. Not to mention, I was born without a verbal regulator.

I let my friends be who they are. Muslim, Christian, Baptist, Catholic...Gay, Straight, Little, Fat, Pothead....whatever....it's their life...just don't infringe on others. You see, we weren't MEANT to be friends with hundreds, or thousands of people. We are a PACK animal. Apes, don't have thousands of other apes around them. (mostly because we're a virus on this planet, and we're killing off apes, whales, dolphins...until there are only hundreds of them in existence...look it up). Why? Because that many people in your life isn't necessary. Not only that, but you can't possibly divide your pea brain between that many people. So, it is a place to attack others, as well as befriend them. It's a place to "compare lives", and a place to feel inadequate, or superior. We all have the friend that posts his/her pictures from their travels from around the world in excess. Why? "Because I'm better than you."...that's why.

Granted, you can occasionally find someone (rarely) on Facebook that you normally wouldn't have known without it, that you have similar interests, and you now consider a friend. But, who needs 'em?

Look folks...we're all different...every single one of us. In all my relationships, I celebrated my differences as well as my similarities. You need to keep that spice in your life, but at the same time, we don't need to reconnect with every asshole that we left in our past. That is not living in the present, nor the future. That is trying to hold on to your youth. Something that ticks away with every click of the clock.

Find (in the real world) a select group of friends. Friends that you can talk to for hours on end. Friends that are 75% or above similar to you. Friends you can actually go have a beer with (at a bar, with people....that you can touch), and converse with about whatever your heart desires. Find someone you love the same way.

But, this garbage website is destroying the reality of friendship. It's making people more pretentious, more egomaniacal, and more bandwagony.

I'm going to go have a beer...and check my Mafia Wars...I think I just got an Energy Pack....

Get Fucked Facebook,
Johnny