Happy [Your Holiday of Choice] Knuckleheads!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just stop being a fuckhole, and fix this shit.

With all kinds of jingly love,
Knuckles

Thoughts, Accomplishments, and a Bountiful Journey

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

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

6 Months.

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

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

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

He continued with:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With love and respect,
Knuckles

[Quotes Courtesy of: Matt "Gutter" Robinson]

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

A Fistful of Future

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So began the spiral. 

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

So, I hid. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rehab.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My swagger was slowly returning.

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

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

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

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

Ultimately, this is how I feel now:

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

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

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

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

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

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

With all my love,

Knuckles

Shove Your Arrow In My Blood Pumper

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

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

Let us begin.

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

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

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

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

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

But, I do know a few things:

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

Life is short,
Love hard,

Your Bloody Valentine,
Knuckles

Suck it up, or Blow it off!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which brings me to the other topic. Love.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A 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.

Fucking Ugly Hot Broads....

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

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

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

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

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

So, I know...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Forever -

Knuckles

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 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

Is it possible to break your own heart?...

Remember back (i'd ask you to close your eyes and remember back, but then you couldn't actually read what i'm writing here), back to a time when innocence ruled our personality, and a new pair of sneakers meant we could run faster than the day before. Remember back to that time when you'd run a race in the playground to try and win, but ultimately you were just happy you were competing. I think this is where it begins...that feeling....that rush...of acceptance...of dominance....of an ego. When you're younger than that, you do things because it makes YOU happy. Playing with your toys. Eating a cheerio you found on the floor. Hugging your Mom.
Innocence.
Then comes the acknowledgment of dominance. If you win that race, all the kids think you're cool. Notably because you're faster, but you become known as the 'fast kid' and you feel cool. Sometime, someplace, another kid will challenge you, and beat you. So, it begins. You run harder, practice longer, and break your back trying to get that title back. Not because you're curing cancer, but you want your title back....you want to be cool again.

From the time we get our first "Ego Stroke", it begins. With me, I see it everyday, being that I live in L.A. and am an actor myself. In the bars, at the clubs, even at BBQ's...the first question is 'What do you do?' ultimately with the follow up question 'What have you been in? Anything I'd know?' To the lower level actor, each and every time that question is asked it's like a kick to a bruised nut...it hurts...you've worked...but nothing huge...nothing...'known'. You could bust out a movie and say "There I go......!!!", but then you'd feel dumber than before for being in it so briefly. No, it's best to say you're a fucking janitor or something.....but, all of that is off subject....my true ramblings are about Lost Souls today.

Sometimes, with all the pissing contests existing in this town, you get caught up in the bullshit. You go through times of feeling inadequate, and miniscule. Once an actor has caught the bug, (be it in highschool, college or otherwise), it usually meant that you did some kind of stage performance and had the satisfaction of having that immediate gratification of applause. You felt 'cool' again. It's addicting. You want more, and more, and more....you feel...to use a word for a lack of a better one....accepted. Isn't that ultimately all we all want? That's why we buy the 'cool' clothes. That's why we buy a 'cool' car...beause we want SOMEONE to say, "Cool shirt!! Where'd you get that?" or "Damn that car is cool as hell, I'm still driving last years model."
To me, I see it everywhere. It's just more evident here in L.A. There have been times I have looked in the mirror, and a flash would go off in my head and I'd think "Who the hell is that?"

Seriously.

Growing up poor sucked. Growing up poor in Missouri sucked worse. When one kid would ask me what I got for Christmas, I'd always make up something I'd seen in a commercial on Saturday Morning Cartoons. I knew I didn't get anything, but it was so much easier than explaining why I had nothing.
I remember this one time...prepare for a tear jerker....I was roughly 6 or 7...and my school year was about to start, and I had worn out my old sneakers beyond all repair. (duct tape can only go so far) So, my Mom had to get me a new pair. We couldn't get any, so we went to this place where people would donate things to the poor, and if you were poor, they'd give it to you. Well, we got this pair of sneakers....and I use that word loosely.....because, they were made out of something I would assume was a mix between beef jerky and plywood. I 'think' it was a type of leather, but I can't be sure. To top it all off, they were blue...something of a smurf color (pre-smurfs)...but a bit brighter, and the outside was a little fuzzy, like a velvet painting. The next couple of days I tried my best to break them in, but they were so damned hard that they bruised my ankles on the bottom side from them not giving in. This was bad, because school was starting, and not only did I have neon blue shoes, but I was walking funny because of my bruises.
First day of school comes, and I head out to the school bus in the rain....I am kind of happy because I found a pair of my Dad's socks that were fuzzier than mine, but were quite a bit bigger than I should have had, but the fuzziness let me walk fairly normal with my bruised ankles.
I arrive to school, and walk off the bus and a girl says to me, "Excuse me, but your shoes have dyed your socks." and to my horror, I look down and in the pouring rain notice that my shoes are bleeding....I guess the hard material didn't absorb the neon ink they dipped them in. So, the ink is running down my shoe...soaking into my sock....and creating a kind of blue/brown puddle where I'm standing.....this is right off the bus, so I have every kid staring at me on the way passed. Some laugh, some whisper....most just look at what I'm staring at.
That day, that very day, I didn't stare at my shoes.....but stared at everyone elses. No one else had shoes that bled. No one else suffered that embarrassment.

I did, and I knew I had to do whatever it took to make my life better. The older I got, the more I realized that everyone else had nice things, and I had nothing. Older than that I realized that family means more than material things, but people don't look at you at first glance and say..."My, but that guy seems like he has a good relationship with his mother."

No, they look at your shoes, they look at your job, they look at your shirt, your haircut, your everything....they look at everything but your soul...because, that doesn't matter in this town.

If you're nice, you're weak...if you're a liar, a cheat, and a thief, then you're exactly the person that's going to fit right in.

We all have to play the game. We have to...to an extent....I'm trying my best to not lose myself....trying hard. But, in a town where everyone talks to the guy that just did a piece on CSI, and you're left to get the drinks....it's hard to be true.

Listen, a man once said..."Fake it till you make it.", but that only holds so much weight with me. I love who I am....I love the fact I open doors for everyone...I love the fact I say "Thank you." instead of "Thanks.". I love the fact that I call women 'ladies' and men 'gentlemen'.

There's gotta be something said for a boy that has a country accent and knows more about the New York Yankees than half the city of New York.

I love what I love, and it's because it makes me feel good. But, to be accepted, to be truly loved by all.....that's where we start losing focus.....Plato said: An opinion is the medium between knowledge and ignorance.
This holds true for all those that think I need to be 'cooler' to do this, or to have as many jobs as he's had to be cool. That's your opinion.....

I'm now in my 30's...and I think my sneakers are fine as-is. I think I can run fast enough....and I think I'll be just fine standing here in the rain alone.

So, be proud of who you are...not for who you are to others...but, who you are to yourself. Judge yourself by what you see in the mirror inside your soul...take a good hard look at yourself and determine whether you're doing what you're doing for the right reasons. Do you love yourself, 'as-is'? Go to the gym because you want to be healthy....not because Joe's body is better than yours....read a book, not because it's on the Oprah List, but because it's the genre of book you like to read.

You can truly see how much I give a damn about making others happy right now, or I would've stopped writing ages ago...but, this sets my soul at ease.

I have a mother that I love dearly. She's a hippie that truly loves the earth. I have a father that is like Hank Hill and Boomhower rolled into one. I have a sister that is a know-it-all, and a brother that's a pothead....but you know what?....I love them for who they are...they each love me for who I am. No frills...no bullshit.....just a skinny boy with bruised ankles and blue socks....

It doesn't matter what you wear...it doesn't matter how cool your car is....what matters in the end is happiness. Do what makes you happy. Live with respect in your heart, and a sense of decency to you....and people will remember you for the right things....don't let the world rule you.....

Goodnight all....my heart is heavy....very heavy....but, word by word....blog by blog....I'm freeing it of all of its rubbish.

Love me,
Johnny