When I grow up… I want to be like Jessica. I needed to be reminded of what’s important in life…
My favorite line: “Yeah, Yeah…. I CAN DO ANYTHING!”
When I grow up… I want to be like Jessica. I needed to be reminded of what’s important in life…
My favorite line: “Yeah, Yeah…. I CAN DO ANYTHING!”
Whether you are for or against homosexuality (or maybe just not sure yet) I think you should watch this. It’s an interesting study done that measures if homophobic people are more or less likely to be homosexual.
Geez Louise. My brain is at it again. Self Sabotage or Sage Advice? Undecided at this time. That’s the thing about thoughts and feelings, it’s hard to sift through your own bullshit.
Ogers are like onions. They have layers.
When your heart says one thing, your brain says three other things, but you have an inkling about something else… It can be hard to decipher what the true message is.
I’m pretty sure I’m going to the ocean this weekend to figure some stuff out. Redwoods, ferns, black oak trees, rolling hills, wildflowers… It’s needed.
I’m going home.
This is not a light hearted post. This is not to get you in the Christmas cheer. This one is for me.
The Holidays Suck
Sure my life is great, I have a lot to be grateful for. A distant voice reprimands: “There are starving kids in Africa!”
The Holidays Suck
So instead of investing in a drug addiction, I’ll write my thoughts/fears. Mostly complain and possibly come up with some sort of point. No promises.
The Holidays Suck
For those who don’t know, I’m divorced. Yes, that’s right, I’m 25 and divorced. The part doesn’t really bother me. It was a blessing in disguise and given the opportunity, I’d do it all again. But during the holidays I miss that feeling of community of a real relationship. No just any relationship, I miss THAT relationship. I don’t miss the fighting, I don’t miss the despair. But I miss going home, giving the person I love a hug and knowing that person knows me better than anyone in the world. I can just relax. I don’t have to fake it, put on a show or even pretend to be interesting. They already know all my stories, they know how they end. There is such comfort in someone knowing who you really are. That skill takes time and not something I’ve been interested in developing with anyone else up to this point.
The Holidays Suck
Does it help I’ve been listening to Dave Matthews Band and Coldplay all day? No. At least I didn’t break out the chic flicks. I spared myself from chocolate and crying. I find some sort of dignity in that, I take what I can. So here I am alone, depressed, yet in a relationship. I’ve never felt so alone as to date someone serving overseas in the military. We met at an airport in September. He was handsome. He was shipping off to Afghanistan. We became pen pals. He’s supposed to visit in February. I’m not sure if that is still going to happen. It’s hard to be in a relationship with someone who isn’t there. No hugs, no kisses, no leaving the toothpaste cap off.
The Holidays Suck
So basically I’m melting down. It’s not at Stage 5 (that was last week), I give it a solid 3.5. So how does one sort out all these complex emotions? I have so many layers of emotional garbage that its hard to sift through and find the truth. Let’s explore my mental influences:
1) Missing my ex during the holidays, but remembering that he’s shit balls crazy
2) Missing my current bf, who I haven’t talked to in 3 weeks and I’m not sure where we stand, the last message was rough
3) Having new guys knock on the door reminding me: ‘You’re alone, I’m here, I like to snuggle and I smell good.’
4) Not working out, not eating healthy, not cleaning my house. At least I’m showering, that’s about all you’re getting out of me.
5) Feeling incredibly alone yet surrounded by people who love me.
6) Being broke, really broke.
6) Having the most professional success of my life. Really it’s amazing.
Well the first obvious thing would be to clean my damn house and eat something good. Maybe even go to a kickboxing class. That should get out some aggression.
Next, get grateful. This is the best advice I think. Get grateful, volunteer, you’re day is not that bad when you are feeding the homeless.
What next? I think things will be better when I talk to my bf and figure out where things are. Who knows when that will be, hopefully in the next week. That should provide some kind of closure. Also getting through 12/25/11 will help. Why? Because……
The Holidays Suck
Conclusion: Stop Whining, Get Grateful, Find Closure, Get Healthy.
Thanks for reading,
The Holidays Suck
Mountain Dew. The oh so sweet is it yellow? is it green? nectar of the geek gods and fuel for gamers has flame retardant in it. Yup. Mountain Dew, along with 10 percent of sodas in the US, contains brominated vegetable oil (BVO), a flame retardant chemical banned in Europe and Japan.
The flame retardant, BVO, is currently listed as an ingredient in various citrus soft drinks such as: Mountain Dew, Squirt, Fanta Orange, Sunkist Pineapple, Gatorade Thirst Quencher Orange, Powerade Strawberry Lemonade and Fresca Original Citrus.
But why and what for? According to the Environmental Health News, BVO contains “bromine atoms which weigh down the citrus flavoring so it mixes with sugar water” instead of floating to the top. Basically, BVO gives soda more consistent flavoring. That sounds good! But BVO is also added to polystyrene foam cushions in furniture and plastics in electronics because BVO can slow down the chemical reactions that cause a fire. Yuck. Is that what we want to be drinking?
So how the hell if BVO is banned in foods in Europe and Japan, does BVO still exist here? Well, back in 1977, the FDA set what they thought was a “safe” limit for BVO in sodas and soda companies have been allowed to use BVO ever since. Seriously! That’s the only reason! Scientists believe that the data the FDA looked at in the 1970s is outdated (ya think?) and that BVO needs a closer look. The EHN says:
After a few extreme soda binges—not too far from what many gamers regularly consume—a few patients have needed medical attention for skin lesions, memory loss and nerve disorders, all symptoms of overexposure to bromine. Other studies suggest that BVO could be building up in human tissues, just like other brominated compounds such as flame retardants. In mouse studies, big doses caused reproductive and behavioral problems.
In the annual Fiesta de San Pedro Nolasco, instead of a pinata they have something called a “cucana.” It’s a very similar concept, except that with the cucana, the chances of candy are only 50-50. The other 50 is a dead rat. Which is then retrieved from the ground and used as a projectile because fuck-you-I-didn’t- get-candy.
“Hey, let me get in on that.”
The festival is named for Pedro Nolasco, a Catholic saint whose primary claim to fame was the founding of a religious order that sought the redemption of Christian slaves of the Moors in the 1200s. Then, obviously, a plague-dodgeball tournament was decided to be the most appropriate way to celebrate his canonization.
Uh, thanks, guys, but “The Patron Saint of Ratball” really wasn’t what I was going for …
In 1922, an erupting volcano forced the people of Nejapa, El Salvador, to evacuate. As they were leaving, locals saw great balls of fire spewing out of the volcano and believed that their patron saint, San Jeronimo, was actually fighting the devil for them. So to honor this event, where their heroic saint saved the villagers from burning alive, everybody gets together once a year and burns each other alive.
Getty “That volcano is a wussy little bitch!”
The city divides itself into two teams, then everybody wads up some old rags, dips them in kerosene for a month, sets them ablaze and hurls them at their neighbors, because apparently Jeronimo was the Patron Saint of Arson. Sure, the revelers mostly come equipped with water-soaked gloves, clothes and masks for safety, but you can only prepare for Armageddon if you know it’s coming in the first place. If you just happen to stumble into the wrong village on the wrong day, however, then surprise!
Happy Burn Ward Day!
In Spain, there are many ways to be maimed or killed by bulls. But it is a free land, so it’s up to you to pick your favorite.
What’s that? Ha ha, no: “None of the above” is not an option.
Getty “Neither is ‘sane.’”
For the discriminating gore victim, might we suggest Bous a la Mar — the Bulls to the Sea? There is no “running of the bulls” here; it’s nothing so uncouth as that. The objective of Bous a la Mar is simply to get a bull to dive after you into the ocean. Do not scoff. It is not such an easy task. You must drive the bull into a blind rage first, then, when he charges, you flee, ultimately leaping into the sea — not to avoid him, you see, but in the hopes that he will follow. That’s how you “win.” To recap: You provoke a suicidal rage in this gargantuan missile of meat and pointy bits, then you need to outrun him, then you need to outdive him, then you need to outswim him.
It’s like a triathlon of animal-based suicide.
Fernando Bustamante / AP “Pissed off Bull to Bull HQ: Transformation locked, initiating Missile Mode. Repeat: Bull Missile is go.”
Once upon a time, the peasants of a poor Chinese farming village found that they couldn’t afford fireworks for the annual Lantern Festival. But the industrious citizens didn’t let that stop them. Instead, with careful research, they discovered that hurling molten iron (at around 2,300 degrees Fahrenheit, to be precise) against a cold wall in autumn looks kind of neat. So now, every year — for the last 300 years — they just go ahead and do that a bunch.
China Travel Guide All the best holidays require welding masks.
The festivities begin with the townspeople collecting all the old pots and discarded iron to melt down, then they watch an hourlong performance called Da Shuhua, or “beating the tree to produce flowers” (the burning kind of flowers, in case Chinese metaphor is too subtle for you), and then everybody just holds hands while the world explodes.
So what’s the technique for pulling off this dangerous pyrotechnics show? It’s very technical, so see if you can stay with us:
Step 1. Get a guy in a wool coat and hat to toss liquid metal with a ladle.
Step 1 is critical.
Step 2. What?
Step 3. We were supposed to think of other steps?
Step 4. Holy shit WATCH OUT FIRE!
Holi, the festival of colors, takes place in early March of each year in India and Nepal. Holi is a beautiful time when both humans and nature shake off the gloom of winter to rejoice in the wonders of spring. Obviously, this is best accomplished by hurling poisons at one another. It’s not intentional, for the most part: It’s just that the tinted powders and dyed water that festivalgoers fling and smear across literally everybody they see — which are supposed to be from natural herbs — are sometimes comprised of oxidized metals mixed with industrial dyes, acids and engine oil. Aluminum bromide, lead oxide, copper sulphate and a whole host of other toxins that can make you make you sick and cause skin conditions and even blindness are playfully, joyously sprayed all over just … everything.
Getty “Open wide, so it coats your lungs!”
Although maybe that’s the true lesson here: You should appreciate the many varied and wondrous colors of nature while you can, because any day now, you could go blind.
Oops. Sorry, that was a typo. We meant “will.” You will go blind.
Getty “AHHH GOD THIS LEAD OXIDE IS ABSOLUTELY STUNNING! ABSOLUTELY STUNNING MY EYEBALLS!”
On the fourth Sunday of every January, the pious folk of Manganeses de la Polvorosa celebrate their patron, St. Vincent, by rounding up the unluckiest goat in the European Union. Said ungulate is then carried in a procession to the local church, where it is carted up to the top of the bell tower.
Marbella Guide Of course.
Historians don’t fully know how this began, but it may be that the custom is a reenactment: An old legend says that there once was an 18th century priest who had a goat that he would milk for the needy. Then, one day, the goat followed him into the church and made its way up to the belfry. When the bells started ringing, the goat, scared shitless by the racket, took a flying leap off the tower. Luckily, he was rescued by villagers below, who were holding blankets out to catch him.
Of course, that warrants the question: How did the villagers know that the goat was even up there, much less to already be in position with blankets to save him?
The legend of the jumping goat may be quaint and charming, but there’s actually a far more reasonable and likely explanation for the festival, put forth by historians earlier this year: There’s a lot of drinking going on in Manganeses de la Polvorosa.
Travel Huanqiu And yet somehow, clearly, not enough.
Entroido is the name of a popular festival in Laza, Spain, that celebrates the end of winter and the beginning of spring. Colorful and ornate “Peliqueiros” costumes are donned, and a general revelry is engaged in by all.
Getty “Hey, it’s like the Burger King Guy dressed up as a transsexual pope. I’m not planning on having nightmares about that later at all!” — Fucking Nobody
The festival lasts approximately five days, beginning with the weekend, during which folks run through the streets with flaming torches, while others throw dirt on them from second-story windows.
But why? You, the logical, sane reader might ask.
And that’s a good question, actually, but now you’re on fire and about to be buried in the street, so you don’t get to hear the answer. Later, all of the participants gather to dance, whip one another and eat grilled goat and pig head.
But I don’t understand, what’s the cultural significance of that?
Because those are the words their fingers landed on while they were flipping through the dictionary. What, you think there’s some rational motive here that you’re missing? OK, try this on for size: To signal the end of Entroido, they hold the “sardine’s funeral,” in which a huge artificial sardine is constructed and then set on fire. Some dress in black to mourn the sardine’s passing, while others choose white to imitate sardine ghosts.
Maybe the sardine is sacred to –
NOPE. We’re not done. On Monday, a battle is waged in which the weapons of choice are mudballs filled with live ants. Of course, what antball is complete without a good seasoning of vinegar first, to make sure the ants are good and pissed off pre-hurl.
Stop. Please. You’re just making noises with your mouth now, these aren’t even words I –
Getty Stop this madness.
When this blind orgy of torch-wielding, dirt-tossing, sardine-ghost-busting, antball-hurling madness is in full swing, there enters the “morena”: “A morena, or brown cow masquerader in a carved wooden mask, appears amidst the ant-throwing to butt people, lift women’s skirts and add to the chaos.”
Carnaval Exhibit.org Any festival where a key figure exists solely to “add to the chaos” is OK by us.
I give up. I give up trying to understand this. I’m confused and angry for reasons I do not fully understand. I think I might throw ants on people. Why do I want to do that now?
Heeeyyy, that’s the spirit! Happy Entroido! Now twirl! Twirl or the Cow God of Chaos will not honor you with his fire! Morena! MORENA!
Carnaval Exhibit.org You’ve won us over with your antballs and horse anarchy, Spain.
By Ronnie Koenig
You’ve taken sex ed, have hands-on experience and have seen every episode of ‘Sex and the City’ — twice. So, you think you know a lot about sex? Here are the 20 things your health teacher most certainly never taught you.
1) Women Can Ejaculate, TooAlthough it’s a hotly debated issue, many women claim that before or during orgasm, they expel a fluid that’s not urine and not vaginal lubrication. It’s a clear, odorless fluid that comes out of the urethra itself (or its surrounding ducts) and can range from a few drops to a flood. “It can happen as a result of G-spot stimulation,” says Amy Levine, sex coach and founder of igniteyourpleasure.com. “It can take practice and a sense of letting go to have this experience, don’t fret if you aren’t able to do it,” she reassures. But, don’t be alarmed if happens either.
2) It’s Possible for You and Your Partner’s Parts Not to FitHe’s the keymaster and you’re the gatekeeper…but in reality, that’s not always a combination that works. “It’s like putting two puzzle pieces into place,” says Levine. If your guy is too big, all is not lost. Try a position where you control the depth of penetration, such as woman-on-top. If he’s too small, then it’s time to invest in some toys and hope that he’s a good conversationalist.
3) The Left Side Is Best for a Woman’s PleasureAccording to sex-workshop leaders Steve and Vera Bodansky, there’s actually a specific area of the clitoris that’s the most sensitive. “We’ve found, in every female student that we’ve taught, that the upper left quadrant of the clitoral head is the most pleasurable spot to touch,” they say in their book, Extended Massive Orgasm: How You Can Give and Receive Intense Sexual Pleasure. So tonight instruct him to go, “A little to the left, dear!”
4) Many Women Experience PCB — Post-Coital BleedingIf you see red after intercourse, it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re getting your period…or that anything has ripped. You could be experiencing post-coital bleeding, a condition that can sometimes result from an infection of the cervix or a polyp. While most post-coital bleeding isn’t life-threatening, you should still see your OB/GYN. Only he or she can tell if treatment is required.
5) Your Desire Is Often Related to Where you are in Your Menstrual CycleIt’s no coincidence that many women experience an increase in sexual desire around the time they ovulate. That’s when testosterone levels are at their peak and, well, testosterone makes you frisky — just ask any guy. In fact, it’s a pretty neat trick of biology that we would want sex right around the time we’re most likely to get pregnant!
6) Many Straight Guys Like Their Anal Areas StimulatedIf your man won’t admit to wanting some back door action, it could be because he’s afraid that it’ll make him seem gay. “The reality is that the anal area is packed with nerves,” says Levine. She also says that stimulation of the prostate can lead to intense orgasms. If you decide to go exploring, just give him fair warning first!
7) Women Can Orgasm an Unlimited Amount of TimesAfter orgasm, men experience a refractory period during which they lose their erection. Women don’t need the same recovery time. “Women have unlimited capacity,” says Britton. “Often they think that once they experience their first orgasm, that they are done. On the contrary, women have the ability to experience one orgasm after another.” Britton also points out that both genders can have multiple orgasms but that men must master specific techniques in order to do so. This means the man must understand his body enough to know when to decrease stimulation right before he ejaculates. Once he’s achieved this, you’ve got a partner to ride the wave of successive orgasms with!
8) Sex Doesn’t Slow Down for Many Elderly PeopleThat Cialis commercial is no joke. Seniors don’t spend all day getting reduced price tickets to the movies. Many of them are too busy going all the way! “Sexual attraction and connection is a life-long drive,” says Lou Paget, certified sex educator and author of The Big O: Orgasms: How to Have Them, Give Them, and Keep Them Coming. So if your sex life is a little lackluster, don’t blame it on age. “For many older women the reason they aren’t having sex is simply a matter of opportunity.” Make time for sex, and sex will happen.
9) Using Lube Can Mean the Difference Between Pain and PleasureIf you’re not all that into sex, or find it painful, the answer to your problem could be in a small bottle you can pick up in any drugstore. Not producing enough lubrication can make sex downright un-fun for women. And needing a supplement doesn’t mean you’re not turned on. Don’t be afraid to use it. “The truth is that our natural lubrication comes and goes throughout an encounter,” says Levine. “Wetter is better, and adding a water-based or silicone-based vagina-friendly lube can lead to an increased level of satisfaction.”
10) Most Women Don’t Orgasm From Penetration AloneYou wouldn’t expect a man to climax without his penis being involved, yet so many women feel pressure to orgasm without the clitoris. “We need clitoral stimulation,” says Levine. “After all, the sole purpose of the clitoris is for pleasure. During sex, stimulate your clit with a toy or your finger — or have your partner get in on the action.”
For 10 more things no one ever told you about sex click here!
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By: Sean Berkley November 12, 2011 1,073,380 views
Finally, after all this ancillary bullshit, it’s time to start raking in the dough. If your two gratis deposits are high quality, you will start getting paid for your man juice. So you can just make enough donations to afford a new Xbox and then take off, playing the sperm bank for suckers, right? Why doesn’t everyone do this?
“Have fun doing weird voodoo with my personal genetic material, idiots!”
Of course it’s not that easy. You have to understand, they need a lot of your sperm, over a long period of time, and you won’t be paid until they get it. In-vitro fertilization has a relatively low success rate, so parents who want your DNA are going to need a whole bunch of the stuff for any chance of success.
You need to baste a whole farm of these, is what we’re saying.
So if your first two donations are good enough, they’ll bring you on as a paid donor. However, that means you’ll be required to sign a contract, usually for six months to a year, stating you’ll come in at least once a week to spank the monkey. Just to make sure you follow through, your paychecks are kept in escrow by the sperm bank until the end of the contract.
In the meantime, your sperm are cryogenically preserved to maximize shelf life, but not all sperm handle the freezing process well. So, your first two donations are put on ice, and at the six-month mark, they’re unfrozen to check how they’re doing. If your tadpoles are still kicking, congrats, here’s your check. If your sperm has gone all Mr. Bigglesworth, however, sorry, hit the road.
They won’t even deliver a eulogy.
Also, there are certain delayed onset diseases that can take a few months to show up on blood screens (like HIV), so they need to test you every six months to make sure your sperm is cleared to give to parents. By withholding the money, that helps ensure donors to come back for their follow-up tests.
Well, you’ve come this far, might as well stick it out. So the screening was a pain in the ass and they’re holding your money for the next six months, but hey, it’s still a piece of cake. You’re getting paid for what most people do for free. They’re going to be so jealous …
Assuming you actually tell anyone, we mean.
Wait, we’re not done.
Sperm donation, as it turns out, has a pretty significant impact on your personal life, far beyond just having to take some time out each week to make your deposits. As mentioned above, you have to have an above-average sperm count for the whole process to be viable, so as such, you’re required to be abstinent two to three days before making a deposit. So if you’re trying to maximize your profits by donating twice a week, that leaves one day per week that you can do with your genitals as you please.
Hooray! We’re also going to knit finger puppets!
If you’re in a relationship, this limits your sex life pretty considerably, so you and your significant other have to plan no-pants time around your donation schedule. But hey, who likes spontaneity anyway? Even if you’re only donating once a week, you will still have a set day and time each week to come in and make your deposit (sperm banks operate on 9-to-5 hours). So if a girlfriend’s birthday or your anniversary happens to fall less than three days before your scheduled appointment, too bad.
Guess that means you’ll have to get her a present instead of sticking your penis in a box like last year.
And don’t go thinking you can just cheat the system. Your sperm count is still spot checked on each donation; if it’s too low, you don’t get paid for that deposit. If several donations in a row are rejected because of fledgling sperm counts, you may be asked to follow a special diet like this, which is designed to boost your numbers.
Happily, it includes both nuts AND bananas.
Of course, the diet and abstinence are all voluntary, and if you don’t want to follow them, so long and thanks for all the spooge. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass. If you decide to quit mid-contract, you just don’t get the money from the pay cycle. Off you go, have a nice life, there’s plenty of people to replace you.
One thing you notice right away is there is a huge difference in what you get paid depending on whether you choose to be a closed or an open donor. That is, whether the recipient can find out who you are (open) or you remain anonymous (closed).
At my particular bank, it was $20 a pop for a closed donor and $125 for an open donor. You’re allowed to donate a maximum of twice a week, so going the open route will pay upwards of $12,000 a year, certainly not a bad chunk of change. However, this comes at the expense of releasing all your personal information to parents should they (or their child) ever want to contact you.
You donated your sperm to a grateful woman — that’s more than our fathers did for us.
If you thought you’d be clever and go the closed route, that doesn’t mean that an intrepid parent or child couldn’t track you down through DNA testing, which is becoming increasingly common (the bank will often neglect to mention this). While no person who has donated sperm through a bank has ever been found liable for child support (at least not yet), you and your family are still going to have to deal with the fact that there’s a child, biologically YOUR child, who wants a relationship with you.
Also he’s a master detective who you should be proud of, you asshole.
It also turns out that you could be the father of hundreds of children. Banks will tell you that there’s a limit to the number of kids that can be born from your donations (12 in my case), and while most reputable banks will stick to this, there are plenty of unscrupulous ones that will happily dole out your sperm to anyone who asks. And that’s where the implications can get truly horrifying. Suppose the bank uses your sperm to impregnate 30 different women. Many of those women will likely live in the same general area, and give birth within a few years of each other. They may not be overly eager to tell your offspring that terrible pornography was part of their conception process. Congratulations! You’ve uncorked up to 15 potential cases of “accidental incest” into the world.
The problem is that many banks rely on college students who are desperate for a quick buck, and they have in no way thought through what fathering a stranger’s child actually means. They’re just thinking in terms of the paycheck, not a lifelong decision.
“I just name ‘em after the things I bought with my pay. The one at the back is Fleshlight.”
After all, even if the 21-year-old version of you is OK with it, that doesn’t mean that future spouses will be. You’ll soon come to the realization that in the interest of full disclosure to a potential girlfriend, you’ll need to tell her that you used to be a sperm donor. Sure, you can just lie and omit that part of your life, but see what happens when a kid shows up on your doorstep wanting to meet his real dad.
I’ve had more than one girl refuse to date me because I’ve donated sperm, and I can totally understand where they were coming from. Who wants to deal with that kind of drama? It’s the kind of thing that guys will casually joke about with other guys, but it’s actually an ethically contentious can of worms. That’s not to say nobody should do it. You’re giving people an amazing gift. But at the very least, you should know going in that it’s a hell of a lot more complicated than just jizzing into a cup.
I thought this was a very candid article for him to write………… nice work!
I’ve said many times I wish I could be a “dude” about sex and think: “Wow, I’m nailing this chick.” Unfortunately, I have other thoughts racing through my head and most of these thoughts have to do with what’s going to go wrong.
Here is a sampling of my insecurities in bed:
Is She Freaked Out by My Penile Abnormalities?
Ever since the first time I entered a guy’s locker room, I felt different. Unfortunately, this feeling didn’t stem from being incredibly blessed in size. It actually stemmed from the fact that I was always the ONE guy who was uncircumcised. I feel like women are much more used to dealing with circumcised penises.
On top of this, my experience with testicular cancer left a few marks down there. The long scar from my first surgery looks like a hernia incision. While this isn’t too freaky, I do experience numbness down there on that side from time to time, and I’m definitely aware of this tingling during sex.
I’m also insecure about the fact that I have only one testicle due to my cancer treatment. I usually know a woman pretty well before I sleep with her, so she knows the situation, but during the act, I still fear that she thinks I’m a freak. It’s definitely gotten into my head.
What If My Erection Goes Away?
When I was younger, I created the BCS: Boner Control System. This was in high school, when boners occurred if a slight westerly wind so much as graced the crotch area. In those days, I was so embarrassed whenever I’d get a spontaneous erection. I wanted to look like a guy who could control himself. Nowadays, if I’m drunk or tired, or I’ve had a little “too much fun with myself,” it’s challenging.
While I’m having sex, I’m concentrating intensely on my erection, questioning whether I’ll lose it. And, sadly, this kind of scrutiny usually makes it go away.
Can Somebody Hear Us?
Living in NYC is strange because we’re all packed together in small apartments stacked on top of each other. Sometimes, I can hear conversations through the vents in my bathroom, or music pulsing through the wall from the next apartment over. Plus, most people have roommates in NYC, sometimes until they are, like, 50.
Once, I was having sex with a girl in her apartment and all I could think about was the headboard banging against the wall, hoping there wasn’t some old lady next door trying to enjoy a peaceful Sunday morning.
I Need To Go To The Gym More
Yup, I am insecure about my gut. And in certain positions, I’m forced to stare at my gut undulating while having sex. The guys in magazine ads make me feel even worse – they’re perfect. Sometimes I think: “How can she be this attracted to me? Look at this thing growing on my stomach!”
What do you think of my insecurities and what kinds of insecurities do you have in bed? How can I conquer mine?
Well universe I’m loosing faith in my ability to have positive interpersonal interactions. I have all this energy, a bull in a China shop, so to speak, that people really don’t know how to deal with me.
I mean well, I really do. Why is that not translating? I go out of my way to be nice, say hello, please and thank you, you know manners.
Well apparently thats not being taken into account. This is nothing new to me. As a child I was teased and not well liked. I could never figure out why wouldn’t people listen to me? Well upon further contemplation, I was a bossy cow kid.
I was under the impression that I knew best and everyone should listen to me. A natural born leader at 8 yes old. Turns out no one gave a shit. Hmmmm…. So I was forced to play with the unpopular kid, you know the one with the big glasses and smelled funny. Yeah she was my new BFF. I was less than thrilled.
But from her I learned kindness, she was the only one who would play with me, so I ate some humble pie and played along. Soon we really did become BFF and all was well in the world.
Let’s flash forward to high school – loser. My dreams and aspirations of being popular were long gone as I shuffled through the hallways trying to figure out who I was.
I hung around an eclectic group of misfits: band kids, drama kids, computer hackers and general smart asses like myself. Problem number one, I had a mouth.
In 8th grade I was enraged that our Physics teacher had being doing lbs. to kilo conversions wrong, I kept arguing that he was wrong, but he didn’t believe me. Did I shut up? Hell no. I kept persisting. I almost got thrown out of class, but then he realized he was indeed wrong and said a half hearted sorry. Did I stop? Oooh hell no. By the time I was done persuading I had him formally apologize to the class and me and write on a piece a paper with a signature that he didn’t know what he was talking about. What drives me to do these things? How do I even accomplish these things?
As I look back at some of the shit I pulled off I am both appalled and impressed by my actions. In 5th grade I had a fully militarized 2nd grade class that followed me every where and did what I told them to. WTF? Am I a cult leader waiting to happen? I don’t think so.
I think most of my shenanigans come from being very smart and very bored. Half the time I say stupid shit just to see how people will react. Recently I’ve tried to channel some of my bravado to business aspirations. I’m trying to sell myself as a marketing and social media consultant. Which is not bullshit. I actually do know what I’m talking about. So far I’ve had great response to my business aspirations.
When it has to do with business and networking I am golden. I can schmooze with the best of them. But when it comes down to interpersonal work relationships, I am shit.
I come across totally different than I mean it. I’m not sure exactly how I come off, but recently someone told me ‘I think I’m some hot shot rockstar that likes to hangout with record executives and party too much and not show up to work’.
This is not good PR. If I was Paris Hilton I’d be hitting my demo, but I’m not. I take my work very seriously and I want up be the best. I want to be excellent. I know I’m smart enough to do it, but I really need to bump up those interpersonal skills to get there.
That’s why I’m here. Good ole Barnes n Noble. To find a book to help me out. Where’s the how to communicate with Radio personalities 101 for dummies? Some suggested that I look up 1-minute manager, so I’ll give that a quick read. Hmmmmm…. Any suggestions?
I got a whole lot of potential energy, I just need to find the right turbine to make it into electricity.
I’m off to peruse! Thanks for reading,