February 25, 2014
Apparently I have upset a bunch of “nice guys” by re-posting the David Wong essay and now they are gathered on another board dedicated to “no hate talk” calling me ignorant and stupid, among other things. Fun!
As long as people are all riled up though, here is Louis CK’s observations on women dating. [Louis CK is way more fun than a bunch of self proclaimed "nice guys" I don't know calling me an ignorant slut.]
February 17, 2014
The article I’m about to point you to, 6 Harsh Truths That Will Make You a Better Person, really needs to be circulated, and circulated widely, for the benefit of men. I say “for men” because most women don’t actually need to hear it. Women, in general, have known for centuries you need to bring skills to a relationship. Those skills can be anything from cooking well to cleaning house well to raising children well to looking great to giving a really good blowjob, but when push comes to shove, those are all skills, and women have them, work at them, and know you have to have them.
The people who don’t appear to know you need to have them are men. Which is why you don’t see a bunch of women sitting around whining about how men don’t date nice women — but you see a crapload of guys sitting around whining saying just that: “Women don’t date nice guys.”
Putting aside the fact an awful lot of guys I have heard say that are actually shitheads and not “nice” at all, and the fact guys bitching about men with money getting all the dates — yes, that guy brings a skill to the table, he can take a woman to nice restaurants — or that men with looks get all the dates — that is another skill set, taking care of the bod and appearance, a skill set that is in large part lost on the male inhabitants of Austin, delicate cough — these guys seem to think being “nice” just means, well, you don’t black your girlfriend’s eye on Friday night.
Bad news guys. If the only skill set you bring to the relationship table is “I won’t give you a black eye,” you have a ways to go. So here for your benefit:
6 HARSH TRUTHS THAT WILL MAKE YOU A BETTER PERSON
~ by David Wong
2014, motherfuckers. Yeah! LET’S DO THIS.
“Do what?” you ask. I DON’T KNOW. LET’S FIGURE THAT OUT TOGETHER, MOTHERFUCKERS.
Feel free to stop reading this if your career is going great, you’re thrilled with your life, and you’re happy with your relationships. Enjoy the rest of your day, friend, this article is not for you. You’re doing a great job, we’re all proud of you. So you don’t feel like you wasted your click, here’s a picture of Lenny Kravitz wearing a gigantic scarf.
For the rest of you, I want you to try something: Name five impressive things about yourself. Write them down or just shout them out loud to the room. But here’s the catch — you’re not allowed to list anything you are (i.e., I’m a nice guy, I’m honest), but instead can only list things that you do (i.e., I just won a national chess tournament, I make the best chili in Massachusetts). If you found that difficult, well, this is for you, and you are going to fucking hate hearing it. My only defense is that this is what I wish somebody had said to me around 1995 or so.
#6. The World Only Cares About What It Can Get from You
Let’s say that the person you love the most has just been shot. He or she is lying in the street, bleeding and screaming. A guy rushes up and says, “Step aside.” He looks over your loved one’s bullet wound and pulls out a pocket knife — he’s going to operate right there in the street.
“OK, which one is the injured one?”
You ask, “Are you a doctor?”
The guy says, “No.”
You say, “But you know what you’re doing, right? You’re an old Army medic, or …”
At this point the guy becomes annoyed. He tells you that he is a nice guy, he is honest, he is always on time. He tells you that he is a great son to his mother and has a rich life full of fulfilling hobbies, and he boasts that he never uses foul language.
Confused, you say, “How does any of that fucking matter when my [wife/husband/best friend/parent] is lying here bleeding! I need somebody who knows how to operate on bullet wounds! Can you do that or not?!?”
Now the man becomes agitated — why are you being shallow and selfish? Do you not care about any of his other good qualities? Didn’t you just hear him say that he always remembers his girlfriend’s birthday? In light of all of the good things he does, does it really matter if he knows how to perform surgery?
In that panicked moment, you will take your bloody hands and shake him by the shoulders, screaming, “Yes, I’m saying that none of that other shit matters, because in this specific situation, I just need somebody who can stop the bleeding, you crazy fucking asshole.”
February 15, 2014
[That is TracyMcMillan in a Ted Talk. Cool stuff.]
January 13, 2013
Wants to tell everyone else what to do. What god to worship, what person to marry, what food to eat, what drugs to take, what to drink, what to smoke, what to wear, what to drive, what gun to own, what books to read, what websites to visit, what movies to see, what television to watch, what radio to listen to — cripes, people. How about everyone just go worry about their own freaking god/marriage/food/drugs/drink/smoke/clothes/car/gun/books/internet/movies/television/radio and leave mine alone?
PS: While we are at it, what is the freaking story on 21 years of age drinking laws? If you are a “legal adult” at 18 and can get married, pay taxes, and pick up a gun and DIE for your country, you ought to be able to legally decide for yourself whether or not to drink an alcoholic beverage.
January 17, 2012
Who was always vaguely trying to apologize for me. We had these really interesting neighbors. Every once in a while in the hearing of others I would mention how really interesting the neighbors were — and not in a good way. And my partner would smile apologetically and say, She’s a writer. She over dramatizes.
Two months after I left, my ex life partner driving home was stopped by police.
The whole neighborhood was cordoned off and surrounded by police.
The really interesting — and not in a good way — neighbors had bombed a house with a body inside that had a bullet through its head.
I do not over dramatize.
I notice things other people do not.
I have noticed this country will be dead in ten years or less if we do not stop the wars.
where the art work comes from :
that is naty chabanenko by hugh lippe
December 21, 2011
December 22, 2009
From New York. It was sort of an impromptu trip and I was moving heaven and earth to get things done so I could leave for a week so did not get much sleep before I left and definitely did not get much sleep after I got there. Got back last night, got into bed and slept! Tired! I do not remember the last time I slept that hard. Or was that tired. Then I had adjusted my clock wrong and oops thought I got up at 8 PM [that is what the computer clock said it was] but no it was 8 AM I just screwed up the clock. Oops again. The cool thing about hard sleep is, after that kind of sleep, my face is starting to look like my face again instead of like some apple head fair exhibit. Yay! But I screwed up appointments big time because of that clock maladjustment. Irrefutable proof clocks can be maladjusted.
In keeping with the rule where Max goes big things follow a huge blizzard hit New York while I was there. It was questionable whether I would even have a plane to get onto to come home lots of flight frenzy but the storm cleared up enough to get snow off [one yegads] runway and for me to get out only an hour and a half behind schedule. And here are —
Things I Learned On The Trip To New York :
•Red lights are just suggestions, nobody really stops walking because of some silly light.
•Cab drivers are not at your disposal, you are at theirs.
•Some cab drivers, if you look confused and worried enough over whether you are at the right address on that dark little street, will wait to make sure you get into the building. [nice man]
•Buildings in New York all have formal names. Seriously, forget street addresses, formal names. And New Yorkers all know the buildings by name.
•It is impossible to actually have any idea of where you are unless you climb onto a roof, then you know why buildings all have formal names, they are landmarks and how people in New York orient themselves to get from place to place. [Do not ask me how New Yorkers do that traveling underground though, I think they have special sensors in their noses like sharks or something and me, I had to climb onto a roof to figure it out.]
•People from New York do not know all people in the U.S. do not own metro passes or even necessarily know what they are.
•El train in New York does not mean elevated train it means “L” train and is underground not up in the air where you are looking for it but if you spin in circles on the corner cursing looking up into the air for a while people do give you more elbow room.
•Smoking outside in 17 degree weather leaves interesting cold burn marks on your hand.
•Uggs stand up surprisingly well wading through three foot snow drifts. Seriously, almost as well as Sorels though I would not push that in the Alps.
•Warm coat in California does not equal warm coat in New York.
•Metal hair combs set off airport metal detectors and will send you to the back of the line — with really interesting hair.
•Always wear a T-Shirt under that big bulky sweater to the airport unless you want to become way more intimate with airport security guards than you intended.
•48 hours without sleep will erase any indication you have ever heard rumors of anti-oxidents let alone taken any in your life.
•Never lose track of your phone charger on a cross continent adventure.
•Love and alcohol do not mix.
where the art work comes from :
the owner of that photo wishes to remain anonymous
July 18, 2009
July 17, 2009
June 11, 2009
Stil is making me tell this story.
Way way back on Columbus Day Stil and I went to the beach. And did beach things. Till it was getting later and we were walking the path back to the boardwalk. [There is not really a boardwalk I just call it that, it is a main strip of concrete full of little open air stands selling cheap sunglasses and beachy stuff running along the Venice beach front.]
We are walking along and there is this couple in front of us. They are definitely a couple. They are holding hands. The guy is tall. Kind of awkward and angular. In that awkward angular guy way some guys are just awkwardly lanky and tall but not in an unattractive way. The woman is short. Squat. Okay squat is being kind —
She has an ass the size of New Jersey.
She is wearing jeans too tight and too low that force skin to bulge above her jean “waistline” [that cannot be good for circulation] and also create lower body bulging that will never be mistaken for fabric bunching. She has a cheap shirt on. Flip flops. And long dark hair that can only be described as Blair Witch friendly.
I look at her. I look at him. I look at Stil. I say, SHE has a boyfriend.
Stil cracks up really hard.