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.
Showing posts with label men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label men. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Thursday, February 13, 2014
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
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
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
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
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
Friday, August 31, 2012
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
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
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
A Fistful of Monsters in my Closet...
"Concentrate long enough on a focal point of negativity, and it will consume you wholly." ~ Knuckles
I submit to you, my version of self help for the weak minded fuckwit.
Well, I guess you can be one or the other, or both, and still need this advice, but it will definitely shine some light on all the above.
Negativity is a monster. I mean a real bad, PMS'ing, fire spewing, cunt of a monster. It causes hate. It causes depression. It causes anger, and resentment, and fear, and a whole slew of other shit. Negativity also causes us to see shit with a slanted view. Now, I for one admit to submitting to this demon from time to time. It's a constant uphill battle to fight off this raging whoremonster, but I do a damn good job. But, what I've also learned is that it's harder to UNDO the effects of Negativity than it is to prevent it.
Imagine this:
You're a child. Maybe, 5 or 6 years old. You've got loving parents that buy you nice clothes, fun toys, and have given you a comfortable life. In your bedroom you have your walls painted to your idea of fun specifications, your toys are where you like to keep them, and your clothes are hung neatly in your closet.
One night, you go to bed, and you leave your closet door slightly open, and (unbeknownst to you, there's a sweater sleeve hanging out on the doorknob, a la Monster's Inc) you are in your bed, with the lights out before you notice this. Something goes *bump* in your closet and #POOF!# your sanctuary has all of a sudden become your tomb. You stare into this void...you stare...and stare...and try to make out what it was that made that noise, and you eventually see the sleeve slide off the handle and "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!! IT'S A GOT-DAMNED MONSTER!!!" *BANG!* under your sheets you go to hide, where you are nearly pissing your pants, and you do your best to stay awake until the sun comes up.
Now, as a child, you'll eventually fall asleep, and awaken and wearily open your closet door to find nothing there. But, now the bug has been planted. "There's something in there!" Now your room doesn't feel so bright and happy. You don't see it as Disneyland anymore. More like a torture chamber of doom that some horrible beast is going to jump out and chew off your little cocktail shrimp sized weenie. (I'm a boy, we think of weird shit like that)
=
Now, this is where I like to relay my 90%-10% view on life. You see, that closet consumed that kid...one little fucking thing...consumed his thoughts, his day, his life...and, after checking to see if there was something there, and finding nothing, all he had to do was reassure himself nothing was there, and move on. But, something that was 10% of his day, became 100% thereafter.
Here's where we do this with adults. Say for instance you hear at Church that it's wrong to be gay. You'd never heard that, but you hear it from your Pastor/Preacher/Priest. You go home, and type into Google: Being Gay is Wrong...and KABOOM!!...a million things pop up and you start reading it. You read it into the night, and go to bed thinking about it. Now, you've piqued your interest, and you go back to some of those pages you visited the previous night, at work the next day. The more you read things from "People that know this for a fact" (self proclaimed), the more you feel like YOU know it as fact as well. Now, you start asking around, and find similar minded people to talk about it with. The next thing you know...you're at ant-homosexual rallies spouting bigoted verbality at anyone that will listen.
You had a perfectly happy life. Full of love, happiness, and kindness...and the Negativity consumed you to the point that you forgot about the 90%, and started focusing on the monster in the closet.
=
I see the same thing happen with my friends that are unemployed, or just out of a loving relationship that suddenly failed, or their life just isn't going the way they want. But, they have a friend like me to turn to...a good friend...that's 10% on it's own. They normally have family, that's 10%. A roof over your head -> 10%....and the numbers keep adding up. But, it's that Negative 10% that keeps their attention. I've written blogs before about how these fucked up partners in relationships find a man or woman that is 90% of what they wanted, but they fart in their sleep, or watch Jersey Shore, or some other knuckle dragging nonsense...and, that 10% encompasses them to the point that they start looking for someone that has the 10% that the person that they're with is missing, and eventually leave 90% for the 10% person, and finish unhappy and realize they fucked up when it's too late.
Look cock-knot, we all have a miserable beast in our closet. The best thing to do, is to nut up, and get your weak minded ass out of bed and kick the fucking door shut with authority, and choose happiness/positivity. Because if you walk through life looking into the closet, you're never going to play with your toys, paint your room, hug your parents, or crank on your noodle the same way again. You're constantly going to be looking over your shoulder at that crack in the door and peering inside to see that lack of a job, or that broken heart, or that exploded fuck doll. (or whatever else saddens you)
I know, I know...it's harder than it sounds...but, Tomorrow's big brother is Today, and what Today says...Tomorrow will listen to.
So, do me a favor, and stop hating others. Stop dragging yourself through the mud. Stop focusing on shit that really has nothing that directly effects your day-to-day reality. Other people have their own demons to fight, without you being another one. Because, when you hate, or your down, or when you are just a fuckhole altogether...you sprout horns, grow a tail, and become one of those raging hatemongers, and who wants that to be their legacy?
Kick that door shut. Live in the light. Embrace love. Duct tape that hole in your fuck doll and get back to plowing it, because Tomorrow just told me that Today said "I may not be at the party tomorrow, so toss one back for me!"
I love you all. You inspire me to write. You give my mind a constant workout. And, some of you give me a reason to rub one out. So, to all of you, thank you...you make my heart love more, my brain more intelligent and my....well....we'll leave it at that.
Monsterously yours,
Knuckles
I submit to you, my version of self help for the weak minded fuckwit.
Well, I guess you can be one or the other, or both, and still need this advice, but it will definitely shine some light on all the above.
Negativity is a monster. I mean a real bad, PMS'ing, fire spewing, cunt of a monster. It causes hate. It causes depression. It causes anger, and resentment, and fear, and a whole slew of other shit. Negativity also causes us to see shit with a slanted view. Now, I for one admit to submitting to this demon from time to time. It's a constant uphill battle to fight off this raging whoremonster, but I do a damn good job. But, what I've also learned is that it's harder to UNDO the effects of Negativity than it is to prevent it.
Imagine this:
You're a child. Maybe, 5 or 6 years old. You've got loving parents that buy you nice clothes, fun toys, and have given you a comfortable life. In your bedroom you have your walls painted to your idea of fun specifications, your toys are where you like to keep them, and your clothes are hung neatly in your closet.
One night, you go to bed, and you leave your closet door slightly open, and (unbeknownst to you, there's a sweater sleeve hanging out on the doorknob, a la Monster's Inc) you are in your bed, with the lights out before you notice this. Something goes *bump* in your closet and #POOF!# your sanctuary has all of a sudden become your tomb. You stare into this void...you stare...and stare...and try to make out what it was that made that noise, and you eventually see the sleeve slide off the handle and "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!! IT'S A GOT-DAMNED MONSTER!!!" *BANG!* under your sheets you go to hide, where you are nearly pissing your pants, and you do your best to stay awake until the sun comes up.
Now, as a child, you'll eventually fall asleep, and awaken and wearily open your closet door to find nothing there. But, now the bug has been planted. "There's something in there!" Now your room doesn't feel so bright and happy. You don't see it as Disneyland anymore. More like a torture chamber of doom that some horrible beast is going to jump out and chew off your little cocktail shrimp sized weenie. (I'm a boy, we think of weird shit like that)
=
Now, this is where I like to relay my 90%-10% view on life. You see, that closet consumed that kid...one little fucking thing...consumed his thoughts, his day, his life...and, after checking to see if there was something there, and finding nothing, all he had to do was reassure himself nothing was there, and move on. But, something that was 10% of his day, became 100% thereafter.
Here's where we do this with adults. Say for instance you hear at Church that it's wrong to be gay. You'd never heard that, but you hear it from your Pastor/Preacher/Priest. You go home, and type into Google: Being Gay is Wrong...and KABOOM!!...a million things pop up and you start reading it. You read it into the night, and go to bed thinking about it. Now, you've piqued your interest, and you go back to some of those pages you visited the previous night, at work the next day. The more you read things from "People that know this for a fact" (self proclaimed), the more you feel like YOU know it as fact as well. Now, you start asking around, and find similar minded people to talk about it with. The next thing you know...you're at ant-homosexual rallies spouting bigoted verbality at anyone that will listen.
You had a perfectly happy life. Full of love, happiness, and kindness...and the Negativity consumed you to the point that you forgot about the 90%, and started focusing on the monster in the closet.
=
I see the same thing happen with my friends that are unemployed, or just out of a loving relationship that suddenly failed, or their life just isn't going the way they want. But, they have a friend like me to turn to...a good friend...that's 10% on it's own. They normally have family, that's 10%. A roof over your head -> 10%....and the numbers keep adding up. But, it's that Negative 10% that keeps their attention. I've written blogs before about how these fucked up partners in relationships find a man or woman that is 90% of what they wanted, but they fart in their sleep, or watch Jersey Shore, or some other knuckle dragging nonsense...and, that 10% encompasses them to the point that they start looking for someone that has the 10% that the person that they're with is missing, and eventually leave 90% for the 10% person, and finish unhappy and realize they fucked up when it's too late.
Look cock-knot, we all have a miserable beast in our closet. The best thing to do, is to nut up, and get your weak minded ass out of bed and kick the fucking door shut with authority, and choose happiness/positivity. Because if you walk through life looking into the closet, you're never going to play with your toys, paint your room, hug your parents, or crank on your noodle the same way again. You're constantly going to be looking over your shoulder at that crack in the door and peering inside to see that lack of a job, or that broken heart, or that exploded fuck doll. (or whatever else saddens you)
I know, I know...it's harder than it sounds...but, Tomorrow's big brother is Today, and what Today says...Tomorrow will listen to.
So, do me a favor, and stop hating others. Stop dragging yourself through the mud. Stop focusing on shit that really has nothing that directly effects your day-to-day reality. Other people have their own demons to fight, without you being another one. Because, when you hate, or your down, or when you are just a fuckhole altogether...you sprout horns, grow a tail, and become one of those raging hatemongers, and who wants that to be their legacy?
Kick that door shut. Live in the light. Embrace love. Duct tape that hole in your fuck doll and get back to plowing it, because Tomorrow just told me that Today said "I may not be at the party tomorrow, so toss one back for me!"
I love you all. You inspire me to write. You give my mind a constant workout. And, some of you give me a reason to rub one out. So, to all of you, thank you...you make my heart love more, my brain more intelligent and my....well....we'll leave it at that.
Monsterously yours,
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
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
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
Monday, February 13, 2012
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
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
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
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
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
Monday, February 8, 2010
You're the yin to my wang....
...Okay, okay, so I know it's the Yin to my Yang. But, this is where I give you the meat of my rant for today. Honestly, today is not so much a rant, as it is a subtle nudge in the ribs of women everywhere to shake them to their senses, and let them realize a good thing when they have it. The following paragraphs will intrigue women and men alike, and will anger those that it hits too close to home for, and inspire those with a little bit of common sense. Let the pissing off......begin:
For the last few years I've witnessed the most amazing vastness of emotions. The full color of the rainbow. My friends are a great group that share with me their pains, sorrows, and emotional roller coasters, and so that helps with my insight. I believe it is because we are at a transitional age. The 30's now are the new 20's which is true. We age slower, and fuckin' hell do we act more immature than our parents did at 30. And, so, where our parents were trying to find life partners at 20, we're trying to find that "certain someone" in our 30's. That someone we can talk to for hours. To hold our hand when we feel alone, and to talk about our favorite book or movie when there's no one else around. As stated, the Yin to our Yang: Definition of Yin-Yang: This Symbol(Yin-Yang) represents the ancient Chinese understanding of how things work. The outer circle represents "everything", while the black and white shapes within the circle represent the interaction of two energies, called "yin" (black) and "yang" (white), which cause everything to happen. They are not completely black or white, just as things in life are not completely black or white, and they cannot exist without each other.
While "yin" would be dark, passive, downward, cold, contracting, and weak, "yang" would be bright, active, upward, hot, expanding, and strong. The shape of the yin and yang sections of the symbol, actually gives you a sense of the continual movement of these two energies, yin to yang and yang to yin, causing everything to happen: just as things expand and contract, and temperature changes from hot to cold. We search the world to find someone that compliments us in areas we are weak in, and we do our best to keep that person, and here comes the shitty part...
I've noticed an overwhelming amount of women that no longer appreciate the amount of effort guys give to show their love. For example: I just spoke with a friend that said; "It's like this man, the day that Sex and the City the movie came out, I went and bought it for her, and then went to buy a bottle of wine for BOTH OF US to drink while we watched it. I don't mind making those kinds of efforts, but not once, EVER has she picked up a Bruce Lee movie, or Die Hard and grabbed a six pack and brought it home to surprise me. It just sucks."
See, women here is where you fuck up. You love the attention. You bathe in the attention. From the time we're dating, into marriage, and until inevitably, there's a bump in the road, and then you start saying..."You don't take me to -fill in the blank- restaurant- anymore." "You don't write me poems anymore." "You don't rub my feet anymore." Well, guess what, we didn't just DECIDE to stop doing these things, and here's where I explain the Good Guy Mentality.
We know you women like talking to your girlfriends about what we do for you. "He cooked me my favorite salmon dish last night, and he got my favorite movie, and he bought a bottle of wine, and it was SO romantic!", because, without a doubt, you like hearing "Ohhh...I wish my man would do things like that for me!"
You see, the Good Guy Mentality is simple. We're in a competition. Not with you, but with OTHER MEN!! We want to be better in bed than any man you've been with. We want to be more romantic than "Steve" or "Bob" and therefore we're CONSTANTLY thinking of new and exciting ways to impress you. This is our way of showing you how much we care/love you. Then.....after years of being the good guy....
It becomes routine. We're on autopilot, and you're used to us cooking you magnificent dinners. Asking YOU what movie you want to watch at the theater, what restaurant you want to go to, and asking what YOU want to do this weekend. Reciprocation comes far and far less, because, let's face it we're always the ones chasing you women, and rarely do you chase us.
With all this in mind, we start realizing that 90% of the game being played is YOUR game, and 10% is ours. So, the special things we do for you, become less special. They're mundane, and almost annoying, and then by the time you've figured out that we're doing them less and less, it's almost a resentment towards you for not being the YIN!!! to our Yang.
Don't get me wrong ladies, we men LOVE to spoil you. (if we love you that is, if we don't care, that's usually when you get flowers and candy...that's how you know...cooked dinner...he likes you...restaurant...you're not worth the effort...flowers...you're worth fucking...poem...you inspire him) But, without you spoiling him to a narrowly equal extent, you will unintentionally start killing even the most passionate of loves.
Money, Power, Fame....they all come and go...Love...love can be eternal. Have you ever met a man or a woman (probably not our parents age or younger, being that love is a dying emotion), but have you met someone that had their spouse pass away and still wear their wedding ring, and you ask them why and their reply is simply "Because, _____ is my wife/husband, and my soulmate and I will never love another the way I loved them."
Balance.
If you like telling your girlfriends about how amazing your man is, you had better plan on being pretty amazing for your man as well. Otherwise, he'll just complain about you to his friends, and that will not end well. When resentment exists, sex lives crumble, anger is on the brim at all times (even when it shouldn't be present) and nothing seems to shine as much as when TWO people continue to prove their love for one another.
Newton's Law of Motion states that any action has an equal and opposite reaction. And, to me, if you want a relationship to move forward, you have to keep paddling the boat. Because if just one person paddles...you finish just going in circles.
My advice: Never receive, without making a mental note to give. It doesn't have to be of any more value than 'heartfelt'. But, make love something that our kids' - kids will want to experience. Our grandmothers wanted to "Find a man that will love me forever." and so far, all I see around me are kids wanting to fuck. That's not love.
Keep love alive. Be the Yin to someone's Yang.
Most of all. Suck a dick if he eats your pussy.
Crassly yours,
Johnny
For the last few years I've witnessed the most amazing vastness of emotions. The full color of the rainbow. My friends are a great group that share with me their pains, sorrows, and emotional roller coasters, and so that helps with my insight. I believe it is because we are at a transitional age. The 30's now are the new 20's which is true. We age slower, and fuckin' hell do we act more immature than our parents did at 30. And, so, where our parents were trying to find life partners at 20, we're trying to find that "certain someone" in our 30's. That someone we can talk to for hours. To hold our hand when we feel alone, and to talk about our favorite book or movie when there's no one else around. As stated, the Yin to our Yang: Definition of Yin-Yang: This Symbol(Yin-Yang) represents the ancient Chinese understanding of how things work. The outer circle represents "everything", while the black and white shapes within the circle represent the interaction of two energies, called "yin" (black) and "yang" (white), which cause everything to happen. They are not completely black or white, just as things in life are not completely black or white, and they cannot exist without each other.
While "yin" would be dark, passive, downward, cold, contracting, and weak, "yang" would be bright, active, upward, hot, expanding, and strong. The shape of the yin and yang sections of the symbol, actually gives you a sense of the continual movement of these two energies, yin to yang and yang to yin, causing everything to happen: just as things expand and contract, and temperature changes from hot to cold. We search the world to find someone that compliments us in areas we are weak in, and we do our best to keep that person, and here comes the shitty part...
I've noticed an overwhelming amount of women that no longer appreciate the amount of effort guys give to show their love. For example: I just spoke with a friend that said; "It's like this man, the day that Sex and the City the movie came out, I went and bought it for her, and then went to buy a bottle of wine for BOTH OF US to drink while we watched it. I don't mind making those kinds of efforts, but not once, EVER has she picked up a Bruce Lee movie, or Die Hard and grabbed a six pack and brought it home to surprise me. It just sucks."
See, women here is where you fuck up. You love the attention. You bathe in the attention. From the time we're dating, into marriage, and until inevitably, there's a bump in the road, and then you start saying..."You don't take me to -fill in the blank- restaurant- anymore." "You don't write me poems anymore." "You don't rub my feet anymore." Well, guess what, we didn't just DECIDE to stop doing these things, and here's where I explain the Good Guy Mentality.
We know you women like talking to your girlfriends about what we do for you. "He cooked me my favorite salmon dish last night, and he got my favorite movie, and he bought a bottle of wine, and it was SO romantic!", because, without a doubt, you like hearing "Ohhh...I wish my man would do things like that for me!"
You see, the Good Guy Mentality is simple. We're in a competition. Not with you, but with OTHER MEN!! We want to be better in bed than any man you've been with. We want to be more romantic than "Steve" or "Bob" and therefore we're CONSTANTLY thinking of new and exciting ways to impress you. This is our way of showing you how much we care/love you. Then.....after years of being the good guy....
It becomes routine. We're on autopilot, and you're used to us cooking you magnificent dinners. Asking YOU what movie you want to watch at the theater, what restaurant you want to go to, and asking what YOU want to do this weekend. Reciprocation comes far and far less, because, let's face it we're always the ones chasing you women, and rarely do you chase us.
With all this in mind, we start realizing that 90% of the game being played is YOUR game, and 10% is ours. So, the special things we do for you, become less special. They're mundane, and almost annoying, and then by the time you've figured out that we're doing them less and less, it's almost a resentment towards you for not being the YIN!!! to our Yang.
Don't get me wrong ladies, we men LOVE to spoil you. (if we love you that is, if we don't care, that's usually when you get flowers and candy...that's how you know...cooked dinner...he likes you...restaurant...you're not worth the effort...flowers...you're worth fucking...poem...you inspire him) But, without you spoiling him to a narrowly equal extent, you will unintentionally start killing even the most passionate of loves.
Money, Power, Fame....they all come and go...Love...love can be eternal. Have you ever met a man or a woman (probably not our parents age or younger, being that love is a dying emotion), but have you met someone that had their spouse pass away and still wear their wedding ring, and you ask them why and their reply is simply "Because, _____ is my wife/husband, and my soulmate and I will never love another the way I loved them."
Balance.
If you like telling your girlfriends about how amazing your man is, you had better plan on being pretty amazing for your man as well. Otherwise, he'll just complain about you to his friends, and that will not end well. When resentment exists, sex lives crumble, anger is on the brim at all times (even when it shouldn't be present) and nothing seems to shine as much as when TWO people continue to prove their love for one another.
Newton's Law of Motion states that any action has an equal and opposite reaction. And, to me, if you want a relationship to move forward, you have to keep paddling the boat. Because if just one person paddles...you finish just going in circles.
My advice: Never receive, without making a mental note to give. It doesn't have to be of any more value than 'heartfelt'. But, make love something that our kids' - kids will want to experience. Our grandmothers wanted to "Find a man that will love me forever." and so far, all I see around me are kids wanting to fuck. That's not love.
Keep love alive. Be the Yin to someone's Yang.
Most of all. Suck a dick if he eats your pussy.
Crassly yours,
Johnny
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