Thoughts, Accomplishments, and a Bountiful Journey

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

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

6 Months.

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

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

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

He continued with:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With love and respect,
Knuckles

[Quotes Courtesy of: Matt "Gutter" Robinson]

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

Shove Your Arrow In My Blood Pumper

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

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

Let us begin.

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

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

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

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

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

But, I do know a few things:

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

Life is short,
Love hard,

Your Bloody Valentine,
Knuckles

The Power of the Positive Mindfuck

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

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

Then....

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sincerely your Secret Santa,

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

A Fistful of Monsters in my Closet...

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

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

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

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

Imagine this:

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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


Monsterously yours,

Knuckles

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

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

RELEASE THE KRAKHEAD!!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Moronically yours,
Knuckles

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

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

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

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

In finishing, I leave you with this thought:

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

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

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

Just sayin'....

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Know your role folks.

Hasta luego,
Johnny

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

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

RED FLAG!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Tuggingly yours,
Johnny

Anti-Social Media....

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Get Fucked Facebook,
Johnny

I'm not allowed to have imaginary friends....

Many years ago, my grandmother saw me chucking walnuts at my brother one afternoon, and said..."I'm taking you to meet someone very important, and that you need in your life." I replied, "Who's that?" and her answer. "God." Mind you, I was very young, and so was my brother, and a sense of religion had not entered my mind at the least. We arrive at a building (church) and she gets out, makes me get out and I say..."Which one is he?" she says "He's not someone you can see or touch, he's all around you, all the time." "Mom told me I'm not allowed to have imaginary friends anymore." "He's not imaginary, He's with us all the time, looking down upon us to make sure we do good with our lives." "So, if he's with us all the time, why did we have to come all the way here for me to meet someone that isn't even here?".....this continued for quite awhile. Even at this young age, I knew there was something shifty about God, Religion, and all that goes with it.

I've touched on this subject before, but I'm bored...and I just watched some guy try to convince Joe Rogan (great comedian, check him out) that Noah's Ark was real. So, it spurred me to write down some thoughts that I've always had plugged into my brain, but rarely share with everyone. So, this will probably piss off quite a few of you, but....I could really give two fucks.

Alright, so here's my theory....mass/organized religion is based on two things...worshipping Jesus Christ, and worshipping the Bible, right? Alright, I have to say, to me...I don't get the whole Jesus Christ thing. It's like this; If God created, the Heavens, the Moon and the Earth, then why worship Jesus? Shouldn't you be worshipping God? When someone sneezes, you don't say..."Jesus Bless you!!" you say, "God Bless you.". Well, most people will argue..."Jesus died for our sins." Well, if God is almighty, then HE is the one that killed him....right?...he orchestrates all that happens, and it's all his divine plan. So, therein, why not worship every guy that dies on a gurney in Iraq (which is fighting for our freedom), and then we bring him back to life with the little electric paddles. Same principle right? Plus, we actually know that this guy in Iraq existed, fought his good fight, and died, and came back.....which brings me to my next point....

The Bible. A book. Am I right? Written by people over 2,000 years ago. Not even Don Rickles was alive that long ago to see that this shit they wrote about was legit. In my eyes, if I wrote a comic book....about, let's say....Wolverine. It's fairly believable. Man suffers through experiments of the government, but then fights for all that is Right, and Good. Alright, so say....for conversation sake....all other books on the planet get burned up in some kind of apocolypse. The only book left is my comic book. In 2,000 years, someone finds this and starts to worship Wolverine. They don't know it didn't happen. They actually love the idea that a super powerful somebody is fighting for them and all they belive in. It's a book......a book. To top it off, the King James version of the book was revised by....you guessed it....King James....to keep his people more in line, and to implement his guidelines upon them. (this is my understanding, you may correct me if you know more about that)
But, what I'm getting at...is there is no solid proof of any of this. Nothing founded, nothing real. Who's to say that Shakespeare didn't write this book? (it's written in prose right?) Who's to say that someone didn't just write a tale of wonderment and it was just that...a tale?
I get the fact that religion gives us a faith that something else is beyond this life, but that is more of a fear of death, than a belief of 'something beyond', and a life of immortality is something that has made millions flock to whatever idea could make it true. (Fountain of Youth)

If you ask a Believer, "Do you think Dogs, Cats, Elephants, Apes, and other living creatures go to Heaven?" They more often than not, say no, and that only Humans have a soul. "Did God create the human genome, DNA, and atoms, molecules and everything microscopic...because there's no mention of it in the Bible?"

You know, to each his own....I have friends from all aspects of religion, and don't hold it over their heads, and I don't judge anyone for any of their beliefs....I, myself, tend to think there's a lot of smoke and mirrors to the 'Good Book'. Adam was made from sand...Eve from the rib of Adam....got cast out of Eden....and walked into a city..............ummmmmm.....huh? A city? How the fuck did that happen if they were the first people? And don't say...."They were the first perfect people." Well, then were the other people made of sand and ribs?

Hear me out people, if you are afraid of dying...then live more....fuck this...."I'm afraid to sin too much!! What if I don't get into Heaven.".....I've got one for you....."What if there is no Heaven?".....What if you're fucking away all these good years of life on being 'good' and 'honest' and 'pure' and what you're supposed to be doing is getting drunk, having sex, and living life to the fullest? It's a HUGE 'what if' for a lot of you....but, some of the select few out there will get me.

Because, seriously....there's Muslims, and Buddhists, and Catholics, and Christians, and so many more.....you're telling me that one is right and all others are wrong? What about, they're all wrong? Who wants to live forever?.....because, if you live clean and pure on the planet, and then there IS a 'forever' are you going to become the absolute opposite because you're going to live forever? Is it a "Be good until you get into Heaven." kind of deal....and then you let loose? Or are you going to be bored out of your fucking mind for an eternity?

Ironically, I get the stigma of being an Atheist, and am told I'm going to Hell (which is cool, because I don't believe in Hell), from a lot of my Christian friends.
Okay, okay....enough....

God Bless you all,
Johnny

P.S. I wonder if a tree goes to Heaven when it dies?

P.P.S. Actually, come to think of it....I think I saw picture with Don Rickles and Jesus at a bar together once....but, who knows?