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.

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

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

RELEASE THE KRAKHEAD!!!!

....see what I did there?....<~~ It's a "Release the Kraken!!" joke....ahhhhh..fuck you, it's funny....

Here's something I haven't touched on in awhile, but really pulls my ball hair.

Self Proclaimed Geniuses/Bitches/Trendsetters/Party Animals....also known as...complete fucking idiots.

Let me start with the one that annoys me beyond all measure. The "Bitch".
"I can go from Zero to Bitch in 1 second flat!" "If being a bitch is what it takes for me to make my point clear, then I guess that's what I'll have to be." and, so on...you all know the person I'm talking about. The female (and sometimes queeny gay guy) that thinks she's being assertive, and aggressive, and Alpha, when all she is proving is her inability to articulate herself well enough to get her pro-idiot point across. "I get called a bitch a lot, but that just shows I stand up for myself." No, it fucking doesn't, it shows you are of inferior intellect and you think that yelling and being condescending will make you feel superior to the person you're locking horns with. When in all actuality, you feel threatened by said person, or else you wouldn't have to act in such a disgusting manner.
Look, no one likes to be made to look a fool. No one, but being a raging cunt only separates you further from the intellectual point you're trying to make to begin with. If you feel that you're a "bad ass", then you're not only mistaken, but also immature in your thought process. Because, life isn't about who can "out-bitch" the person next to you. It's about right and wrong. It's about moral and immoral. It's about being a fucking idiot, and being fucking smart.
Which, brings me to Fucktard Classification #2:
The Self Proclaimed Genius (also known as, someone being "Google Smart")
I will start with a quote from Neil deGrasse Tyson: "With automatic spell checkers running unleashed over what we compose, our era is that of correctly spelled typos."
Yet, you get this onslaught of people that constantly post something to their facebook or twitter accounts that is witty or whimsical that someone else thought up. Whether it's text on an image that says "Fuck This Monday! I'm Ready For Friday!" or a quote by some author or philosopher that they'd never heard of until they'd seen it on someone that they deem "Their Smart Friend"'s wall, and stole it for their own, these people run amok among us. Now, here's where these basement dwellers become scary; They are also the kind of fool that gives out medical advice to people that they drummed up from multitudes of sites they've perused over the internet.
Say, for shits-n-tickles that you have a headache. But, this is no NORMAL headache, it's the headache that puckered your asshole into your lungs. So, you text Fucktardio and ask "You ever had a headache that puckered your asshole into your lungs?" Well, Fucktardio, being the person that he is wants to impress with his superior intellect and begins zipping from site to site with his keywords. "Headache" "Extreme" "Fucking Awful" "Pucker"....what-the-fuck-ever..."Yeah bro, you've got a tumor. You see, my great uncle's aunt was a doctor on my Mom's side, and I was bestowed with all her wisdom. So, trust me, I'm not wrong on this." and then Fucktardio has planted the seed of stupidity into your inferior brain. The problem with the internet is this: There's a difference between fact, information, and news. Any cock-knot can post on a message board, and say he's a Board Certified Physician. (spell check helped him spell all those words, otherwise it would have come out Bored Country Fried Fission) So, you, being Fucktardio, go to this message board and see that this cunt bubble has posted some information for another person that has a similar problem to what you're searching for. You take this as gospel, and go forth with your newfound information, and pollute the world with it. When, all the while, if you would have just said "No fucking clue dude. Go see a doctor like a big boy should." everything would have been fine. After all, your 2 minute Google search is OBVIOUSLY just as reassuring as 12 years of Medical Training.
But, the assholery doesn't stop there. Oh no!! These are the people that ramble adamantly in your face about the most ignorant of shit. Or, if you bring up a topic of discussion, of something...let's say...that they just watched a special on Discovery about, then you have to listen to them correct you, and or "school you" on whatever it is that makes them feel superior. But, as soon as their 1 hours worth of knowledge (including their 15 seconds of knowledge on the new Tide with Bleach...because, let's face it, their knowledge came with commercials) is over, then you get the "guessing" of what it is, and they will fight and argue their point, whether it be true, or not, because they refuse to lose face in such a topic that they just OWNED in their mind. They will bark, embellish, talk over, make fun of your new shirt, or whatever they need to do, just to detract from their lack of information.
Speaking of new shirts...I want to give a massive FUCK YOU!!!! to Ed Hardy and his disgusting and atrocious clothing, and a big THANK YOU!!! to time for slowly making it uncool to wear it.
Trendy-Ass-Posers!!!
By definition, a Poser is: "One who attempts to appear to others as something they are not, especially by their manner of dress; a charlatan". We have in L.A. a time of year we call "Poser Season"....okay, I say "We.", but I mean "Me." It's basically that time of year that Pilot's are being shot. There's a massive influx of 17 to 25 year olds that are looking to be famous, fit in, and be the coolest kid in Hollywood. When, in all actuality, they're just in a pissing contest with one another. Crocs, Ed Hardy, Von Dutch, Juicy Couture, and whatever name brand you can throw at them. They spend more money on trying to be cool, than they do trying to succeed. "I'm wearing sarongs now. Yeah, it's the new thing." Is it reallllllly asshole? Why is it the new thing? Because we're so dumbed down as a society now that we need to look to other cultures to bite off their traditional dress to make a statement?
But, it doesn't stop with clothes. It's their coffee. Their hair products. Their music. It's always so obscure that you just want to punch them. Look, I admit that some things are "better" if they're purchased off the map. But, I don't shove it down everyone's throat I see so that they know I am a "trendsetter".
Here's a laugher. So, I was in Denver a few years back, and my best friend took me to a bar that his wife was dancing at (not that kind of dancing, it was a belly dancing thing, for fuck's sake people, i do have friends with some class after all), and everyone in this joint had those nasty white people dreadlocks and it smelled of patchouli. This broad (waitress) comes over to the table and hands me a one page paper menu and it PROUDLY proclaims at the top that this is an ORGANIC bar. Cool....no problem...
I order a vodka martini when the most annoying and troubling thing comes out of this chicks mouth: "Well, just so you know, our vodka is organic. And, we don't accept credit cards, only checks."
Okay, stooge, you're telling me, rather than me having a piece of plastic that I hold onto for AT LEAST 4 years at a time, cut up at the end, and put in the recycle bin...is somehow WORSE than cutting down thousands, and millions of trees, to make into little pieces of paper that will just get thrown away? Am I missing something here? The lengths that people will go to, just to seem "More organic"...or, in my eyes "cooler and more passionate about life" than the next person, simply amazes me.
And, after all that, I bring myself to my final fuckhole:
The Self Proclaimed Party Animal
This is the person that (male or female) will fit into one of two categories: 1) They know all the cool bars. They know every trendy hotspot for clubs (of which makes them bleed over into the previous category), where the neatest after hours places are, and where everyone is meeting for breakfast. Usually this person has a RotoDial of Skanks and Posers that they can call at any moment and will be at their side. They pretend (or possibly do) know every doorman and bartender, and will consistently let you know so. They throw money around "Even though I don't have to. They know me so well here, I could get comped all night if I wanted.", and do their best to be 'seen'. Or: 2) The person that once had a fairly social life, that hasn't for years, but still proclaims shit like "LET'S TEAR THIS CITY DOWN!!!" when you go out to happy hour. Or "BRO!! I'm going to drink you under the table!!", when you haven't been out with this person in months. Look, dick hole, I'm sorry you had 5 kids, and have a mortgage now, but that doesn't mean you need to try and recapture your youth by excreting pure idiocy from your pores every time we walk through the doors of a bar. You screaming at me and saying "YOU READY FOR SHOTS?!?!?!" does not make a space/time wormhole magically appear around us and scoot us back to a dorm room in college. It looks sad, and desperate and you need to just learn to be secure with your position. And, for the record....No......you fucking can't......[in reference to drinking me under the table: I am a professional drinker, and I should never be challenged, or I shall be forced to expose my true super power]

All-in-all, there's just a multitude of moron in this world lately. I attribute it to this....and, you're going to need to follow me here, it's going to get tricky:

Say, you have an A level student. Pure genius. Knows the subject matter backwards and forwards and is well versed on the whole topic.
This person teaches a class, and a student that also wants to be a teacher/professor (just assume everyone wants to teach after this point), and passes the class with a C.
Okay, so you have a C level student that graduates, and is now teaching students. This teacher teaches a class, and the next kid makes a C in his class. So, what is a C in this class, would have undoubtedly been an F in the first person's class. Yet, he passes, and HE becomes a teacher. Then, you have an ongoing trickle down effect or morons. When, inevitably, you have a knuckle dragging cave dweller teaching a class that he shouldn't even be allowed to collect the garbage for. And, here lies the conundrum...how do we recapture the intellect we once had? Is it a lack of passion? Or just laziness? Is it a lack of knowledge that we're all becoming inferior humans? Or, is it just that we know, but don't give a fuck?

Regardless of what it is, I think that we need to have more people creating quotable quotes, and less people reposting someone elses intelligent quips. We need less people biting off someone elses flavor, and more innovators. We just need to wise up, and start being better humans again.

When we start having a generation of kids that act like drug addicts, without actually taking the drugs, then we have a problem. I don't want to grow old with some kid that watched Jersey Shore all the way through college as President.

We already elected one retard. Isn't that enough?

Anyhow, go read a book, or take a class, or just open your mind to the fact that you're more than the clothes you wear, the labels that surround you, and the quotes your rip off. You're a unique human. One squiggly spooge that made it to an egg. So, stand up, have some pride, and don't ACT smarter...MAKE yourself smarter.

And, please, put down the fucking phone when I ask you a question you don't know...I know you have google on quick launch. Idiot.

Moronically yours,
Knuckles

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

Defining That, of Which We Call Knuckles....

As previously stated, I like to be big. Not "big" in the sense of, say, needing to buy an extra seat on a United Flight, but "big" in the sense of personality, life, and actions.

Here's the reasoning behind my madness;

In my youth, I kept my head down, walked softly, and made little waves. I was bullied, talked down to, and generally just pushed around by life. I watched movies with guys that stood up for themselves, and others, and envied them, as well as admired them. They were the Superheroes of the real world. Men like John McClane of Die Hard. He was an average guy, that under pressure, became a super human. He couldn't fly. He couldn't turn invisible, but he had something inside him that made him want to save his wife, and other innocent people, because they needed it.

These "other" people are average, non-heroic, Keep Your Head Down people. They were me. I was the one being rescued, but that's not what I wanted to be. I wanted to be the guy saying "Yippee Ki Yay Motherfucker!"

So, I looked deep down inside myself, and I pulled up the whimpering, weak, timid heart that I had, and shook the living fuck out of it....

On a sidenote, it helps that I'm an Atheist at times. You see, a lot of people believe that this is just our earthbound self. They believe in eternity, and going to Heaven, and an afterlife. I don't. So, I believe this is our one shot at being the best ME that I can be. Which, helped in the creation of what you see (read) in front of you.

Back to my Boring Ass Story...

I shook the living FUCK out of myself, and said "Time to nut up, or Shut up!", and started doing little things day in, and day out, that were not typically things I would do. Standing up to people started off as a little mumble under my breath, that usually followed by a "What?" from the other person. But, in true John McClane fashion, the mumbles eventually became words, the words became sentences, and the nerves became steadied. Resulting in a defiant, strong, and stable conversation.

After learning that I could create an individual that I thought was exactly what I wanted. I no longer looked to movies for inspiration, but in turn, started looking inward. I wanted to create, in my mind, the best Johnny that I could. My own personal super human.

I had always thought intellect was a profound thing, and so I studied. I studied things that "I" wanted to study. Not for school. Not for classes. For me. Things that I wanted to know. Things that I wanted to be educated on, so that if and and when it ever came up in conversation, I'd be well versed on the subject. I'd sit in the library for hours, just reading books on the biological makeup of humans, Genghis Khan, British Parliament, Shakespeare, Religion, and a vast amount of other topics. I guess, in a way, it was a movie figure that inspired this after all, because I had envisioned how James Bond held peoples attention in conversations with knowledge of a certain topic.

Then, I realized I wanted to create. I wanted to leave behind something that was a part of me. I was a horrible artist when it came to drawing (i tried it), and painting. So, I joined Drama in high school. I was still coming into my own, and so I did Stage Craft, to just be involved. But, what was to become of that one simple move, would help mold the person I am today. I saw something in those tiny little plays that made my heart swell with a light that could illuminate the midnight sky. Acting. It painted a picture with words, with movement, with gestures, with history, love and passion!! It was a legacy waiting to happen.

But, what was to happen next, became even more obvious to the creation of me. You see, as in true "me" fashion, I became enthralled with acting and theatre. So, as it was, I spent more time reading about it. The history of theatre. The creation what acting is today. All things that piqued my interest, I would find in a book. And, then, at the same time, I started realizing something. These...words...they also paint a picture. Certain words had more weight, more vigor, more passion, than others. Certain phrases were rebellious. Certain stories were more powerful than others.

Thus, began my voyage into using these words in everyday life. People would be shocked, which interested me, by some things I'd say. It was a response to "words". I could say "Fuck." and catch an irritated look from an old woman. I could say "cunt", and garner a reply from people standing around me. And, so I began creating another part of my personality that I love...freedom of speech.

As I've said before, if you have a canvas (that is Life), and you have paint (that is words), why would you only paint in black and white? Wouldn't you want to use as many colorful words to paint the picture you desire?

A simple sentence, "Wow that movie was great.", becomes a powerful, rough, and brass sentence with "Wow that movie was fucking great." with a little more color.

I am now, the man that I wanted to be. I drink what I want, even though I didn't even start drinking until I was 22 (by choice), because I like to. I don't need to, I do it, because it is a part of the person I love to be. I write what I want. I say what I want. I do as I want. My actions my have controversial outcomes sometimes, but they are a direct result of me wanting to do what I wanted at the time, and therefor I regret nothing in doing so.

So, I smoke cigars, drink booze, swear, workout, eat right, study life, people watch, look at porn, and dissect humanity for what it is. I also stand up for the weak voiced, the silent walking, and bullied Average Joe. I created a man that is confident, articulate, intelligent, and passionate, and the benefit of that, is that I fear no confrontation, because there are only two outcomes to any situation, I will win, or I will lose, and either way, I am okay with either one. All, because, I believe that it helps me better understand myself. People are constantly searching for "themselves", but what they don't understand, is we get this one life...and instead of searching, they should be creating.

We are what we are, because of what we do. Don't let the world define you, because you can define yourself. If it feels right, do it. If it helps make you feel like "you", do it. Because, at the end of this road, there's death...and on that day, you'll want to look back and say, "I was the best me, I could be."

So, no longer do I need John McClane to be my guiding light. No longer do I need James Bond to tell me a martini is a classy drink.

Nope, I don't need any of those guys, because they're fictional, and I'm real. I'm a living, breathing super hero. I don't rescue kittens. I don't fly to burning rooftops and whisk grannies to safety...nope...I save myself, and those I love, from the mundane, and boring...I save myself from being weak, sad, and average. I still bleed. I will still die. But, I will die with the knowledge, that I conquered this cunt we call Life.

With all of that said...


Go fuck yourself...


-Knuckles

The Creation of All That is Me Part 1

The inner make up of a man, is multifaceted. It's all a combination of actions, and results. How he carries himself throughout life, determines the end result, and ultimately how he is remembered. I try and live life large. Bigger than the average man, or what I consider the average man at least.

This includes the satisfaction of a select few friends. They equal no more than the fingers on my right hand, but they are the ones that I go above-and-beyond to insure their happiness on this planet, and in turn, insures mine as well.

One friend in particular is the subject of the first part of my "The Foundation of Me".

Throughout my time on this marble we call a planet, I've learned that you can't conquer it alone. You need an equal partnership. It can be a wife that you truly love (or husband, as the case may be), a best friend, and on the rarest of occasion, a parent.

I myself, have been blessed with a best friend.

I'm not talking about a teenager "BFF". I'm speaking of the real deal. The friend of 20 years that when people see us hang out, it's obvious we've known each other longer than we've not known each other. The kind of friend that people ask "How do I get a best friend like that?"

I'll tell you one thing, it's not easy. You have to have the perfect storm of factors. Things like; The ability to keep a secret, seeing eye-to-eye on 90% of life, willing to make efforts that are out of your comfort zone, and generally making their life a major priority of yours.

I have tried to put into words, on numerous occasions, the true nature of my friendship. I usually come up short, or finish saying something like..."I don't know, it just works."

But, I'll say this, you feel a lot better knowing that no matter what comes your way, there's two of you to attack it, and not just one. So, everything is a little less frightening. You have someone to complain to about the most mundane of things. You have someone to ask advice, that is really going to give you the bare bones of it, and not say something they are guessing you want to hear. You have a foundation that helps make you a better you.

Too often in this world, we focus on ourselves, and are selfish is so many ways. With a friend such as this, you want to give to them, what you don't give anyone else in the world, and therefore keep yourself from being overtly selfish, and make a lighter heart, mind and soul in the process.

In everyone's life, comes high times, and low times. Rich times, and poor times. Happiness, and sadness. And, yes, it sounds like a marriage...and in some ways it is...but, it's something you will grow to admire within itself. You respect the actual friendship, as well as the person. You appreciate them for whom they are, and never judge them for what they're not. You have a millions stories to tell all of the outsiders to this friendship, because when opportunity comes, this is the friend you always call upon to share the greatest of adventures.

I can say that I've jumped off cliffs, climbed mountains, hung out with celebrities, got drunk with, and pretty much conquered the planet with, my best friend.

If you don't have one, envy me. If you do have one, you know exactly where I'm coming from. Because, no matter how big my personality is...No matter how often I fuck up, succeed, fall flat, or end up in the hospital...I've got a brick that helps make up the base of that we call Johnny.

I take my hat off to that friend, the man, the soon-to-be father, and I say "Thank you." for helping to create a legacy, of that that is me.

Rocky Balboa wasn't Mexican....and Black Porn can't be made with Asians...

Can you hear that?....listen closely...it's the sounds of the gloves coming off! It's time for some bare Knuckles!!

I just read something that blew my skirt up. Turned me into a Mary, and I screamed like a bitch. (no feminists, not like a female, like a pansy assed man) I'm talking
about...
THIS!!


AHHHH!!!! A chick sued the Lord of the Rings STUDIOS for RACISM!!

Okay, as a former actor, I take A LOT of beef with this! There is just so much wrong with that. I was turned down so many times for my weight, my height, my hair, my eyes, my teeth, my skin color, my....my....MYYYY!!!....because....*drum roll* I WASN'T RIGHT FOR THE FUCKING PART!!!

Look, Harry Potter wasn't Filipino. He was a white British kid, that lived in the space under some stairs. Rocky was Italian-American. White Guy, meat-headish, boxer type. We can't recast him with Oscar De La Hoya, BECAUSE HE'S NOT ITALIAN!!!

You get what I'm selling here folks? People are "sue happy" and, because the judicial system puts up with that bullshit, the studios, the producers, and directors are afraid to be sexist, racist, or whatever....

Look, I'm 5'10" tall. My acting career went in the toilet...so, say I decided to go to porn. I read in the Valley's rag-mags...."Seeking well hung black man, over 6 feet, to slang some thang!!". Then, I show up at the audition, and lose out to....YOU GUESSED IT!!! a mandingo black man that would wrap his cock around my throat and strangle me with it if he wanted!! Because, HE WAS RIGHT FOR THE PART!!! If you picked up a porno that said "THICK BLACK COCK!!" on the front, and you watched it, and it was the Asian dude from the Hangover in it...with a regular sized weenie...you'd want your money back!

Apparently this broad didn't read the books. She wants to be a light skinned fairy elf, with blonde hair. Yet, when she gets to the audition, and the CD tells her...."Ummm....you're not a light skinned fairy elf. You're actually....Indian looking.", she decides it time to call a lawyer.

Get fucked!! I didn't audition for Harry Potter, because I'm a 30 something, tall, a little chubby, Dego!!

Grow some fucking balls Warner Bros.!! You to Peter Jackson!! I would never walk into a hospital and say "I want to apply for the Brain Surgeon job!" and then sue them when they said..."Well, sir, you're actually not a brain surgeon, and to be honest, you're not actually that bright."

Okay, maybe I'd sue them for calling me dumb....but, the other part is correct.

This world is going to hell in a hand basket! I only had books, movies, porn and music to lull me into my pre-apocalypse coma...now...it seems...I need to prepare for horrible music (thanks Justin Bieber), Kindles, and a small pricked porn star.

I know this doesn't flow as well as some of my blogs, but it was more of a spur-of-the-moment rant, rather than a blog.

Know your role folks.

Hasta luego,
Johnny

You're your own pussy...

No, morons, I'm not talking about fucking your fist. I'm talking about being "Your own worst enemy."

Let me explain.

I get this a lot: "Wow, you've got a positive approach to nearly everything. You have a lot of bad shit going on in your life, yet you always seem to be happy. Is it a front?" No. Idiot. It's not. I'll tell you how I do it.

I go about life knowing that most people are stupid. Individuals can be intelligent, as I've stated, but as a whole the world is a negative, and horrible place. The news, never reports happiness, or "Everything was fine today in Burbank, California. Nothing happened, and everyone seems well fed and content with life." No, it's always about gunshots, death, murder, kidnapping, and such.

Commercials for Vegas never say "We have a great economy, and our water supply is not tainted with any chemicals. Life is good." No, it claims, "Come here, our hookers don't have STD's, infidelity is encouraged, and you can create a few new addictions with drugs, and gambling being rampant."

So, with so much negativity surrounding us at all points in society, compiled with your own demons, how is it possible to fight a war that will never be won.

Simple. You are your own vessel of happiness.

Jersey Shore is a television show full of uneducated morons, that have fame and (now) money. You can say "I wish I had that money/fame/attention." Or, you can do as I do, and paint a clown face on each of them and see it as a comedy.

People see all around them that Text Speak is dominating the way people write. Even if it's NOT 140 characters or less. I see it as, "This gives me the opportunity to prove that I'm more intelligent than Mr. I hv HEART 4U BAYBE!!" And, I laugh.

If you are looking at the world and thinking "Where is the happiness? I want to be happy!" You're looking to the WORLD to make you happy. It's not up to the world to create your happiness. No more than looking to a lottery ticket to make you "A Success". Creation is from within. You create happiness. You create fun. You create drive, ambition, passion, excitement....

If you can't find these things within, then how do you expect to recognize them, without?

Look, I get the whole "The world is a monster." thing. But, don't be a pussy. If you want to be strong, happy, or what-the-fuck-ever....grow a pair of bristly haired, bloody veined, heavy weighing balls, and stop being a puss. Otherwise, you will be perpetually in a cycle of "Oh, woe is me!"

Be the change you want to see.

Bitches.


Your guru in disguise,
Knuckles

I don't think I'm ever going to reach that perfect level of drunk....does that count as a pussy-assed complaint?

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