Friday, October 31, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
I wanted to point out an additional aspect of date rape along with other advice, which comes right out of God. It’s a story in which I nearly date raped someone, which, of course, surprised the hell out of me. (Please excuse any unusual spacing, etc; it’s a problem with Wordpress and their CSS’s, which occur when you cut & paste from Word.)
The Bitter Babe
Okay, we’ve discussed the bitter friend, but what about the bitter babe? The bitter babe is very different from the bitter friend. She is pretty and fed up with men and dating. Any woman can be a bitter babe at some point in her life.
A few years ago I was at a charity fundraiser thrown by an organization called the 20/30 Club. The club was started years ago by a bunch of young male professionals who wanted to meet more women, as well as help charities. They formed an organization that uses worthy causes and social events to bring professional singles together. Two great activities killed with one stone; what a great concept. The fundraiser was held at a bar called Jack Sullivan’s, which no longer exists, which is too bad because I did pretty well with women at that bar. (Every guy has a few bars where he has good success meeting women, and a few others where he can’t even get women to acknowledge he exists.)
One time at Jack’s, Steve and I ended up standing next to a group of pretty coeds who were looking for some action. They started pulling up each others shirts and flashing one another. It’s pretty easy to hook up with a woman when all a guy has to do is say, “Nice breasts.” Clearly, God—angry that I was successful with women at Jack’s—caused the bar to be closed.
I went to the charity event at Jack’s with a few buddies. We were all looking to meet someone, not to hook up with, but to date. We arrived early enough to commandeer a table and chairs. We were there for only a few minutes when a pretty redhead and blonde walked into the bar. They walked past us and headed upstairs. I noticed the redhead glance back at me a few times. The two women set up shop near the railing of the second floor. They people-watched patrons on the first floor from their post. I caught the redhead looking at me a bunch of times within the first twenty minutes. I sized her up: very pretty, early thirties, 5’7”, good body, nice tight butt. Her breasts were a little more than a handful, which I liked. Her bright blue eyes were the kiss of death. They lured me in all the way, especially with their contrast to her long red hair.
She scanned the room relentlessly. She scrutinized guys. She seemed a little annoyed and crossed her arms repeatedly. She didn’t laugh or smile. I decided to remain at my table for the night and not hit on women. Bad strategy to meet the redhead, right? Wrong. Different types of women need to be approached using different tactics. A lot of guys use the same tactic to meet women. They go out, they approach a woman, if she’s not interested or has a boyfriend, they move on to the next one. The weakness with this tactic is that women notice when guys hop around from one woman to the next. This offends lots of them and is a huge turnoff. It only works for trixies, vain women, and girls with low self-esteem.
These three types of women have a strong need to feel like they are the most desirable woman in the room. If a guy hops around and gets positive attention from the women he approaches, he will pique the competitive interest of trixies and other women with low self-esteem. When he selects one of these girls, she feels like she has won out over the other girls. This is important to her. Confident women don’t need such an ego boost. They don’t care to talk to a guy who is so obviously on the prowl. (Incidentally, if a guy hops around and is shunned by most of the women he meets, which is often the case, girls with low self-esteem will hardly say a word to him; they don’t want to be associated with other women’s rejects.)
This explains why confident beautiful women, referred to by some as “tens” (I’m not into the whole numbering system), sometimes date physically less-than-flattering guys. They know they are stunning and they have nothing to prove, so they don’t have the trixie competitive nature. They don’t need other women to be jealous of them in order to feel complete. Instead, they can simply go out with whomever they wish, as in the case of Nikki Cox and Bobcat Goldthwait.
Why don’t I like the numbering system? It’s inconsistent. A ten to one guy is often a seven to me and vice-versa. What’s the criteria? The system is too subjective to answer that question. Lots of guys give women with big fake breasts high numbers. I don’t find anything attractive about fake breasts and give these same women low numbers. Lots of magazines rate Halle Berry as the prettiest woman in Hollywood; I prefer Claire Forlani. It’s no secret why. Compare their eyes and remember my big weakness with women. Mostly, numbering is insulting to women. Instead, I just describe the woman and guys can assign her a number based on their own preferences, if they so wish.
The redhead wasn’t a trixie. She didn’t show signs of low of self-esteem. She watched various guys operate and seemed to criticize them to her friend. Every now and then, she glanced in my direction. What did she see when she checked on me? A guy just hanging out with his friends. I talked only to the women who were near us or who approached me. I was not on the prowl.
A lot of guys checked out the redhead but she was not approachable. She did not look like she was out to meet anyone. One guy did manage to talk to her at length. He was big, probably 6’4” with a solid build, about my age, twenty-eight. He’d talk to her for a while then go hit on younger women. When that didn’t pan out, he returned to her until other young trixies caught his eye. He’d go talk to them and then return. Eventually, he reduced his hopping around to just the redhead and one young trixie. Who would be the one lucky enough to nab him? Through it all, the redhead kept checking on me. I waited patiently. The big guy’s tactic wasn’t going to work on her, so I didn’t concern myself with him. My friend Steve showed up and I pointed out the big guy while making fun of his tactics, which is exactly what the redhead was doing with her friend. I knew she’d see me doing it, too.
It was really funny. The big guy was treating the redhead and the trixie the same. This is one big flaw with a lot of the books that give advice to guys on dating—they treat all women the same. The advice they give is geared primarily toward meeting, and typically nailing, shallow, pretty women. But, they insist that the advice is good for all women. They basically lump all women together into one mold. Unfair. That’s like suggesting all baseball players are the same just because they play baseball. Certainly not true; some are better hitters, some pitch, some field better, and so forth. It is the same for women, which is why the key to success starts with observation and has little to do with following a set procedure.
The bar thinned out as closing time neared. The redhead stood alone, still watching people over the rail. Her friend was busy talking to some guy; the big guy was talking to the trixie. It was time to make my move. I headed up the stairs and walked over to her. I didn’t say anything but instead leaned over the rail, looking where she was looking. I waited a few moments before speaking, “You’ve been up here all night watching people. So tell me, what are we looking at?”
She pointed to different patrons, “Well, that guy wants to go home with her, and she likes him, and that big guy there looks like a boring fuck anyway, and that guy there is gay and doesn’t know it.”
The “big guy” she referred to was the one who had been hitting on her earlier. She went on about him, “He just wants to pick up some young woman. The whole thing is pathetic, all these people trying to lie their way into bed. I’m so sick of the dating scene. If you wanna fuck me, just say you wanna fuck me, you know?”
Direct and honest. I like that in a woman. It’s a sign of maturity and confidence. I caught a glimpse of Steve approaching out of my eye. He arrived just in time to hear “If you wanna fuck me, just say you wanna fuck me.” He shook his head in disbelief. I could have said I wanted to fuck her. A lot of guys would have, but that was the wrong way to go. She’d know I was just saying what I thought she wanted to hear, and that would annoy her.
She was hurt that the big guy was going after a younger edition and she wasn’t going to put up with that shit. What did she want? To be fucked? To leave with the big guy? She wanted a victory; not a victory as in a guy, but rather a victory in the form of being one up on men. I was happy to give it to her; she deserved it. In response to her fuck-me line, without missing a beat, I gave my reply, “Wow. You’ve stumped me. No one’s ever stumped me, but you just did.”
She smiled, “Really?”
We spoke for about ten minutes. She was very bitter. Along with being upset at the big guy and with dating in general, she was overworked at a job she hated, angry with a guy she was “kind of dating,” and upset with her family. I needed to change her focus to find success.
“Would you like to dance?”
“There’s no dance floor.”
I stepped into her, “There is now.”
She smiled again and I put my arms around her. Steve and I took a few turns dancing with her before he left. After he was gone, she and I began to kiss. Her name was Lisa. Soon the bar began to close. I walked Lisa outside. She did not say goodbye to the big guy, who had since been ditched by the trixie.
I wanted Lisa. She stirred me up and I found her to be a breath of fresh air from the trixies saturating the bars I had been to recently. When we got outside, she immediately hailed a cab. I figured she’d jump in with a quick blurb that it was nice to meet me and drive away. Instead, she opened the cab door and looked at me, “So, are we going back to your place or mine?”
Wow, what a wonderful surprise! I lived closer, so we headed to my place.
Cab drivers probably make their most money picking up a couple headed for a one-night stand. I gave him twenty dollars for an eight-dollar ride and we got out of the cab. A guy on the verge of getting lucky doesn’t want to wait for change. That’s just more time for the woman to change her mind. He wants the cab gone as soon as possible, before the girl has a change of heart and decides to take the cab home. Guys about to have one-night stands make for big tips.
Inside my place things got busy pretty fast. We sat on the futon, where I removed Lisa’s shirt and pants as we made out. She was wearing a sexy black thong and black bra. After a while I went for the bra. She pushed me away and instead tore off my clothes. She was really into biting. She took hard bites at little pieces of skin on my chest, followed by great big bites of chunks of skin. I literally thought she was going bite my nipples off. It was quite painful. She went down on me. My immediate fear was that she would bite me down there, too. (She didn’t, thank goodness.) Something told me this was as far as it was going to go—a blowjob. I wanted more, so I had to make a move.
I stopped her from sucking on me (there’s something a guy doesn’t do often), and went back to trying to remove her lingerie. The bra came off easily but when I tried to remove the panties, she held them on by the waistband. I licked her crotch. I had found this to be a good way to get panties off when women hesitated to remove them. It worked like a charm. She gasped and let go of the waistband. I slid the panties off her. I was very glad I did. She had the best shave job I’ve ever seen. Her bush was this perfect, little narrow triangle, not too big, not too small. She was a natural redhead. I rolled her over and bit her sweet ass for a while, then rolled her onto her back. Her butt was pretty mushy upon touch, which was a little disappointing but I managed to cope. I slipped a condom on and prepared to enter. She suddenly went limp. Her eyes closed and she lay absolutely still.
“Lisa? Lisa? Are you okay?” I whispered.
She nodded and muttered.
“Do you want me inside you?”
She nodded again and muttered. She was clearly out of it, or faking, angry that I had removed her panties under false pretense. It could also have been the alcohol and work stress that suddenly gave her fatigue. She lay there, practically asleep. I thought about it. She was right there, lying naked before me. She wanted me inside her and I seriously thought about it. It would have been so very easy. My faculties weren’t one hundred percent either, as I’d had lots to drink myself. I rubbed against her to see if that would bring some life into her. She murmured as though she were in a dream, “Mmm. That feels good.”
I pushed in just the top of the tip. Nothing. I backed away. She wasn’t kissing back, she wasn’t moving; she wasn’t doing anything. Is this date rape? I loomed over her for a good ten minutes, trying to make up my mind if I wanted to do her or not. She was so beautiful, lying there naked. Also, I had to pee badly, which is impossible while sporting wood, so I needed to finish to take care of that.
I decided that it would be inappropriate and for the first time I could see how a guy could do such a thing under certain conditions. The idea of banging a girl lying dormant held little interest to me. The idea of doing Lisa lying there completely naked in front of me—with a little more than a handful of perky tits and the best shave job I’ve seen—held lots of interest to me. I debated another ten minutes. A battle of will and hormones was raging and will was on the verge of defeat. Finally, though, I acknowledged that I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I pulled the futon away from the wall and opened it. I took off my condom, to help keep the hormones from resurging a more effective assault, and lay down beside her.
I watched her sleep most of the night. When it got cold, I threw a blanket over us and cuddled up against her. She was responsive and cuddled back. Every now and then I removed the blanket to look at her some more, then replaced it. I didn’t take care of my pee problem. I was afraid that if I solved the dilemma on my own, she would wake up and want to fuck. I’d have wasted a great boner, which would have been a huge disappointment to me and my hormones.
I spent about eight hours with a full erection, much longer than the suggested length Viagra warns about in its commercials. I didn’t know such a thing was possible. I couldn’t sleep, what with the naked woman beside me and my current state of excitement. I suppose I could have left her and gotten into my own bed but that didn’t even occur to me at the time. When lying next to a beautiful naked woman, not much occurs to a guy. Even if it had, getting into my own bed would have seemed like wasting a perfectly promising nude woman and no guy is going to do that.
So I lay there, for eight hours, in erotic discomfort. It was torture. God was doing some of Her best work on me. She knew I wouldn’t take care of business myself and She had made me drink all those beers to fill up my bladder. Then She knocked out the naked woman, leaving me in a frenzied state. That Bitch! Lisa woke up in the late morning with a raging migraine. I assured her we had not had sex.
“You know, you could have. I wanted to, but I think I’m glad you didn’t.”
“I don’t think it would have been any good for me with you just lying there. Sex to me is kind of an everybody-participates sport.”
I walked her out and waited for her to get into a cab. I hurried back home and took care of unfinished business. After that, I took the most satisfying pee of my life. Aaah!
I learned three things from Lisa:
· Any guy can end up in a position to date-rape someone.
· Be gentler with women’s nipples.
· There is a right way to pick up the bitter babe.
I never imagined that I would ever be in a position to date-rape someone. I was that night, though, and it took every bit of discipline I had to restrain myself. Hormones are extremely powerful, especially when they travel in groups numbering over three times the normal amount. There are different types of date rape. One type is exactly what it’s called, the rape of a woman by her date. Another type is the one I faced. It’s the type of rape where a woman no longer has the faculties to consent, usually because she’s drunk.
I think this type of date rape is quite a double standard. If a guy and girl are both drunk off their asses and they have sex, she may not be held accountable for her actions, while he could be charged with rape. If a woman isn’t responsible for consenting to sex because she is drunk, how can a guy be responsible for engaging in sex if he is drunk, too? Realistically, I don’t know how many of these cases are tried. Fortunately for both men and women, there is a naturally built-in safety switch: A guy too drunk to think clearly is almost always too drunk to get aroused.
Prior to my night with Lisa, my idea of date rape was a scenario in which the woman is drunk and the man is sober. In such a scenario, clearly the man is abusing the woman. I quickly dismissed this misconception when I found myself sprawled over a nearly passed-out woman, thinking Oh my God, this is date rape. It’s far more likely that both the guy and girl are drunk. Date rape is another good reason to stay away from drunken women. If a guy is inebriated and takes a drunken woman home, he is likely to engage in sex with her. He could be charged with date rape. Just like drunken women who go home with strangers, this guy has put himself in the unwise position of being unsafe. The best play for him is not to take her home in the first place.
I’ve been tough on some women’s nipples. After nearly having mine ripped off in a set of gnashing teeth, I learned to be gentler with nipples—not too gentle, because that’s no good either—but definitely gentler.
The bitter babe is tricky to pick up and can be a lot of work if approached incorrectly. She is worth the time, though, as usually she is not in the mood to play games, so a guy can refreshingly be straightforward. I actually learned how to hook up with bitter babes prior to meeting Lisa, but since I was successful in those stories, they have no business in this book. The quandary with the bitter babe is two-fold. First, she can be any type of woman, which needs to be determined to have a chance with her. Second, she is skeptical and critical of men. She needs to be approached carefully.
I like showing the bitter babe a good time. I feel like I am giving her some things she really needs, namely some good treatment, sex, and respect. Bitter women are mostly bitter because they have been dissed a lot, they feel disrespected. There are often times, though, when I pass bitter women over because I just don’t have the desire to sit still for a long time or have the patience to deal with their bitterness. They can be a lot of work and take much energy.
The best way to approach a bitter babe is not to approach her. Let her observe. Watch how she responds. If she keeps looking over, she is intrigued and interested. She can’t figure out the behavior and that piques her interest. Go over and talk to her. If a guy doesn’t behave the way a bitter woman expects him to behave (in short, if he doesn’t behave like a guy), he may have a chance with her. Bitter babes aren’t looking for a male; they’re looking for an anti-male. I have the bite marks to prove it.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Anit-equity is pushed by Republicans. You must work hard for your money and prove yourself. (Unless you're a big corporation and then the government will bail you out of your mistakes. Hmm.) Does that create more or less government? A hell of a lot more. Lack of equity in education leads to more prisons, more taxes to pay for said prisons, more welfare, more taxes to pay for said welfare, more government to monitor and run all these programs, more childcare for parents who can't take care of their kids, more government to monitor children, foster parents, and so forth. If we had basic equity in education to begin with (that's one of the few places where you really need it), all that government goes away. It's easy for someone to say they create less government but look carefully to see the truth; as voters, that's our job. And, unfortunately, most of us fail to do it.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Monday, August 11, 2008
That’s not to say that having a book hasn’t changed my life; it has. Given the subject, it has changed dating, of course. I like the girl-next-door-types; the book tends to scare them off, while attracting the more trixie-types, who I tend not to prefer. I knew this would happen, so I was prepared. It’s still, tough, though.
Mostly, having a book changes some of the people around me. Some friends feel a need to introduce me with my book-credit (”This is Ian, he wrote a really funny book”), while others keep asking me when the sequel will be written. The friend it changed the most was Cheryl (name changed to protect her identity).
I met Cheryl on New Year’s Eve at a bar called The Avenue several years ago. She had beautiful eyes and a warm smile, so I liked her, instantly. My friends and I hung out with her and her friends for most of the night. Her boyfriend was not at the party, as he was working. I got her digits before she left. We started to swap a lot of emails and got together for several dinners. I told her if she wasn’t dating someone, I would definitely be interested. (Working to steal women away from their boyfriends is immature and lame.) I didn’t like her boyfriend, though, as he spent little time with her. It seemed more like he was keeping her on the line rather than a real relationship. A few times it felt like we could get something going but she was true to her boyfriend and stuck to remaining friends with me. While I enjoyed seeing her and even having her sub occassionally for volleyball (she was only an intermediate player but the level of fun and personality she brought to the team more than made up for any lack of skill), I mostly looked forward to our conversations. Cheryl was intelligent and interesting; unafraid to speak her mind and personable. I had the feeling that she kind of wanted me to push her into having something happen; that if I did, I would be the reason for a break-up with her boyfriend. She didn’t really want to be responsible. That’s not how I want to start to date someone, so I didn’t push or pursue. In short, once I spoke my mind, I respected the friendship and had no problems with it.
If Cheryl had one flaw, it was her breasts. I don’t mean her breasts themselves, I mean her view of her breasts. She thought they were important but they weren’t. She would reference their small size in jokes from time to time. Personally, as I mention repeatedly in God, I am a butt man. Cheryl had a great ass, a nice bonus to everything else about her. When I wrote the first two chapters of God, I wanted to get some female feedback. I wanted women who I knew would tell me their thoughts; who wouldn’t sugarcoat anything. Cheryl was one of the women I asked. She gladly accepted. The first story deals with a woman who had an amazing pair of breasts. While Cheryl seemed to like the humor and candidness, after she read it, she became convinced that I was a breast man. “You’re definitely a breast man.” I repeatedly told her otherwise but she refused to believe me. There was a strong disappointment in her voice. This confirmed to me that she had an interest beyond mere friendship.
Soon after, Cheryl vanished. She stopped emailing or returning calls. No more dinners. No more great conversations. Fearing she thought I was a creep based on the first two stories, I sent her the rest of the manuscript when it was done, including the last couple chapters where I realize what an ass I had become and made changes, finding my balance. Still no reply. To this day I miss our conversations. Again, her vanishing act served to confirm my suspiscion that she had more than an interest in friendship–if she wasn’t interested, she wouldn’t care what kind of breasts I liked.
I have not spoken with Cheryl since the book was released, over a year ago. I still miss our conversations. I’ve never met anyone quite like her. I still include her in emails to my friends about doing dinner or getting together for a movie, and so forth. Why bother? Another comedian gave me some great advice once: He said, “Never change anything about yourself for anyone unless you love them and they love you.” He was Bernie Mac and as you probably know, he died this past Saturday at age 50. His early demise is a reminder of the amount of time we waste on silly things, like a lack of communication or stupid misunderstandings or allowing others to change us when we really don’t want to change. Cheryl is a great example. If she had just believed me or told me what was really bothering her, we could have easily fixed it; instead, we both lose out on a good friendship–that might have been more when the timing became right. For what? For nothing that has any substance or real meaning.
So, unless Cheryl emails me to please stop including her on emails, I will continue to include her. I can’t control how anyone else lives their life but I can control how I live mine. Remember, the only person you have to live with is yourself. You have to be true to who you are; don’t let anyone change you unless you both love each other. (In which case you probably won’t want to change each other… at least not much.) Thanks Bernie; good stuff.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
My nephew is just too cool for Yellowstone.
My nephew in his not-so-cool "safari gear;" he makes it work, though, don't you think? Look for it in catalogs this fall.
Some pronghorn, the only antelope in North America and the fastest animal here, with speeds over 5o mph.
A grizzly 50 yards off the road, eating a roadkill deer he dragged there. Caused miles upon miles of backed up traffic and we were lucky enough to be right at the front.
You should never swim in mountain lakes; it's a warning in all the literature. You can get hypothermia in minutes, sometimes even less, even in the summer. What? Me? Oh, I'm Canadian, too, so I'm just fine. This is like warm bathwater for me and if the American part of me gets cold, I just pee... Enjoy that bottled water from the mountains you're drinking...
This moose was like 25 yards away from us on a trail we hiked. We almost didn't see him. Fortunately, we did and we just watched him while he took his sweet time foraging and moving on; he actually blocked the trail for a while. A moose is the worst animal you can run into in the woods, even more so than a grizzly or cougar. Moose don't run, they stand and fight and are highly unpredictable, unlike cougars, who will most likely run and bears, who will most likely amble away, unless you are an idiot who surprised them or inspected a carcass they are eating. Fortunately, my nephew was too cool for this moose to mess with.
A black bear.
Some kind of bird or something; anyone recognize it...?
A more traditional looking grizzly. This guy got chased by a bigger bear a few minutes after this was taken, a mere 3o yards in front of us! (We were across the road and they were on a twenty foot rise.)
Some bison after crossing a river then ambling along the road at night. Bison are starting to congregate in larger and larger numbers, as the re-introduced wolf population surges. At first, the wolves rarely went after bison, as elk are easier prey and plentiful; however, as wolves grow in number, the weaker packs are pushed into the prairies, where they are forced to learn to hunt bison or starve. Ironically, it is the weaker wolves that hunt the bison and in some cases, they gain confidence and strength, returing to elk territory, where they chase the pack away that once chased them away. An intriguing cycle. The bison can defend themselves better in large groups but then have to compete more for food. As always in life, it is a double-sided coin...
Trust me, go to Yellowstone. You can stay in cabins, hotels, camp, whatever; plenty of places to eat in the summer and so forth. It's so big, it doesn't feel crowded, even in the peak season of July. I guarantee you'll see elk and bison. Other animals, it's up to you. Moose are rare to see but we've had good luck; seen some every trip but one. (Grand Tetons are good for moose.) Cougar are nearly impossible; we had one roaming around a campground and never saw the freaking thing. Doh! (One was shot and killed in Chicago, only a neighborhood away from where I live, several months ago! Again... doh!) Grizzlies can be seen if you hit the right places in the early morning and evening, although still uncommon. Black bears are uncommon, too, and I've only seen one at Yellowstone... until this trip, where we saw like 10, including some cubs! Pronghorn are usually seen at least once, while bighorn are rarer. For eagles, it's all about reading the literature and going where it advises. Coyotes are common, wolves are rare (hate people), and foxes are extremely rare to see. (I know! Foxes?! Rare?!) We watched one hunt last summer and didn't realize how lucky we were until this trip. Get out there and have fun! Share your photos with me, though, 'kay? Thanks.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Also, I signed the contract for saveinheritance.com's article today. The coverage will take place Spring '09 and we will reach 100's of millions of people, so I'm pleased. Hopefully, we'll kill this theft epidemic for everyone.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
They would like to include some more people who have had similar experiences, as additional evidence of how great the problem is. I am accepting your stories until July 15. So, if you want to share your story and be part of the media coverage, email it to me @ email@example.com. I'll see if I can get you included. (If you've signed a non-disclosure agreement, I will not be able to use your story.) Thanks in advance for sharing your story and helping out potential future victims.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
As for the media, they are discussing what Obama and Clinton did wrong and right. Please, what a fucking joke! Obama and Clinton owe everything to the media. Period. I said it before and I'll say it again, if Edwards' wife had died during the election, he'd be the candidate because he would have gotten all the free media attention. I still believe Edwards was the best option but he just couldn't compete w/all that free media Clinton and Obama got. Too bad; it seems more and more the media and $ determine the Presidential candidates. Pretty scary.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
We hear it all the time. “Men are just jerks” and “Women are bitches.” Whenever guys don’t behave the way a woman wants, she or her friends almost always dismiss the guy as “being a jerk.” When a woman doesn’t do what a guy wants, she is a “bitch.” Is it true? Are most of us men “just jerks?” Are women “bitches?” Mostly, no we’re not; the problem is simply a matter of perspective. Ninety percent of the problems in the dating and relationship world stem from failing to consider the other gender’s perspective. And little “expert” advice encourages us to do so.
For all you women who experience this, and there are a lot, pay attention: You meet a guy. He says he isn’t interested in dating anyone. You have a good conversation. He asks for your number. You give it to him. He calls a few times. You have a few dinners. You end up in bed together. This goes on for a while, then after a month or two you start talking about your relationship and he bails after retorting, “I told you I wasn’t interested in dating anyone.” What a jerk! Ah, nope, afraid not; instead of dismissing him as being a jerk, consider his perspective. He tells you upfront he doesn’t want to date anyone. Later, he asks for your digits. You give him your number. In his mind you just told him you are cool with some potential simple slap and tickle. He didn’t lie to you, he didn’t mislead you; he told you exactly where he stands. I know in your head you might be thinking, “Oh, he asked for my number because I am starting to get him interested in dating… now he’s calling… now he’s asking me to dinner… he’s getting more and more interested.” Nope, he’s getting closer to the slap and tickle. If you don’t want that, when a guy says he isn’t interested in dating anyone and later asks for your digits, simply respond, “Thanks but you said you weren’t interested in dating anyone, so I’m gonna pass.” It’s a no-brainer when you consider his perspective.
If you start to consider the other sex’s perspective, you’ll quickly see that we are “not jerks” and “bitches.” For example, a lot of times we men don’t call after sex because you lied and we lost interest. The woman who had green eyes, a 36-C cup, a tight ass, and I didn’t know smoked when we left the bar, just came out of my bathroom naked with brown eyes, a pair of double A’s, a fat butt, and a cigarette dangling from her mouth, now that she had removed her colored contacts, extreme push up bra, and three sizes too tight pair of jeans. We still sleep with you on the spot because… well, it would be rude not to. But don’t expect a call from us, ever. You’re the one who misled us, not the other way around.
Flipping it on its ear, a lot of guys call women “bitches” because when they approach these women and say something witty like, “My friend wants to meet you,” the women tell them they are “lame.” How rude of them. Again, consider the woman’s perspective. She and her friends take time to decide where they are going to go to meet guys. They get dressed up. They carefully choose between a dozen different pairs of earrings, several skirts, and thirty different shoes. In short, they put effort into going out and drawing attention. They want guys who approach to show some effort with some original ice-breakers and to be confident. “My friend wants to meet you?” Ooh, how clever and original, plus your friend sounds like a real confident man, sending you over to talk to women he likes. Score! Sorry to piss on your wet dream but she’s not a “bitch;” she just doesn’t want you cock blocking the guys she wants to meet and that’s totally fair.
Or maybe you buy a woman drinks all night, so you think she owes you her time, attention, and maybe more; please, like you wouldn’t turn down a free drink. She’s not a “bitch” for taking your drinks and then not giving you any action; she’s smart and thrifty.
The more attention you give the other gender’s perspective, the better you’ll relate and the more success you’ll have with whatever it is you’re after—dating, marriage, sex, increasing your Beanie Babies collection, getting a good reference for a job, whatever. And guess what? Dating and meeting people actually becomes fun, instead of a chore.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
http://blogtalkradio.modeone.net/ is the link for more information and to find out where to hear the show in your area.
Thanks for listening!
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Very astute, Tucker. A lot of people never get this. When I toured hard as a standup I almost missed it myself. If you’re both lucky and tenacious, one day something you start as a simple hobby becomes a job. As soon as something becomes a job, it becomes very easy to overlook the fact that you have one of the coolest jobs that exists. A lot of people would kill to have the same job. You forget these things because your priorities change—you have to pay your bills, you have to keep getting work, you have to keep the job, and there’s a shit load of competition. I forgot this myself until I met a guy playing volleyball one night. He found out what I did from someone else and came up to me, “Dude, you fucking piss me off. I’m so pissed off.”
I had never spoken a word to this guy, so I was more than I little perplexed and braced myself for a possible fight. “How’s that?”
“I pride myself on having the fucking coolest job. I work for the FBI. I’ve worked there for over five years, I get to make up names and go undercover and all that cool shit. I always ask what people do right away because no one ever has a cooler job than me. Until now. You’re a standup comedian and that is the coolest fucking job.”
I had forgotten that; I had forgotten how lucky I felt when I got my first paying gig. After hearing his insight, I made a point of just relaxing and remembering how fortunate I was from time to time. Like you point out, though, the show has to go on; every now and then I would listen to myself during the act and hear what I was actually saying. (Most of the time you’re just in autopilot, telling your bits and ad libbing where needed.) I would smile and have to hold back a laugh; if I listened to what I was saying too much, I would lose my train of thought and the show would fall apart. It’s very ironic.
Now that I’m off the road, people ask me if I miss it and will be going back. “Nope, because I don’t want to do it full-time anymore. I enjoy being able to hang out Saturday night and meet the women I want to meet or to be in town and play volleyball on the beach all day. Trying to work the road occasionally as a standup would be like a crack head trying to take just an occasional hit or an alcoholic having an occasional drink. It can’t be done in my case. I’d be sucked back in full-time; it’s my tenacious nature and the high of being on stage.”
How do I cope? There’s always another way. I re-live my comedy stories from the road in a book. And there’s plenty more where that came from. I get to relax, take the jobs I want and enjoy my freedom writing scripts for hire and working on my own stuff. When big opportunities arise, I won’t have time to savor my freedom and good fortune, so I savor it in moments like this, when things are a little quieter.
I think you are doing the best thing you can do to appreciate the success and good fortune your hard work is bringing you… you’re writing about it. It will keep you appreciating it every time you make an entry, even when it is a chore to take the time and write an entry after a long day or week of work.
BTW, I just discovered these posts and they rock; I’m gathering a lot of useful info on production, something I intend to do at some point myself, for the same reason as you: to keep an idea intact and true. As always, thanks for sharing your experiences and knowledge.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
The system is so stupid I can't believe. I just can't believe it. And I hope the superdelegates are truly super in that they consider the stupidity and misrepresentation the system causes, and then vote accordingly. For example, compare last night's election results:
In Indiana, everyone was allowed to vote--Dem, Repub, Indy, whomever. In North Carolina, only registered Dems could vote. Okay... there was a strong turnout in both states, but in NC, the majority of the state did not vote. In IN, a majority did turnout and they barely chose Hilary as the winner. Obama keeps winning the black vote, most of who tend to be dems. Okay, again... blacks make up about 13% of the entire population. He's winning their votes in a lot of states that only let dems vote in their primaries and where many of the whites, a much larger population, are registered repubs. Why the hell does anyone get excited about such victories? They mean nothing.
Hispanics, now the largest minority population in the U.S., lean toward Hilary. Many of the states Obama wins vote overwhelmingly Republican in general elections (see the map at http://www-personal.umich.edu/~mejn/election/). Hilary has won the large states and looks to win Texas in a general election, an important swing state, because of her favor among hispanics and blue collar white men. She looks to win Ohio for the same reason--favor among blue collar white men. In Florida, she would most likely win in the general election. Finally, the majority of our population is women; and, black, white, or hispanic, many will be inclined to vote for a woman; as opposed to whites and hispanics, who won't be inclined to vote for a black.
Obama is also open to more attack by McCain in the general election and McCain is already gearing up for that attack. Hilary winning would be a surprise tactic that would catch McCain off-guard and cause him to have to take time to regroup.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The gig was a long weekend (Thursday through Sunday) in Grand Forks, North Dakota, at the Comedy Gallery, which was actually inside the hotel at which the acts stayed. All I really remember about the club these days--even though I played it severalt times--is that the hotel had a pool in the shape of a boot. It was in the height of summer and believe it or not, even then there's not much going on in Grand Forks. Shocking, I know.
I was the feature and the headliner was a comedienne out of Florida named Monique (not to be confused with Mo'Nique). By Saturday morning we were bored out of our minds. Her boyfriend, along to see the exciting sites of Grand Forks, was training for the Olympics as a speedskater. He asked if I could help him out Saturday morning; he wanted to video tape himself skating so that he could check his technique. Normally, I wouldn't get up on a Saturday before noon (or any day, for that matter) but like I said, we were bored out of our minds. So I agreed.
Saturday morning we got up and Monique's boyfriend--we'll call him Eric since I can't remember his name--showed me his "summer" skates, used to train in the off-season. I was expecting roller skates but instead, he showed me solid black skates that had one set of extremely narrow wheels. No doubt these skates were the predecessors to the popular roller blades that came along several years later. The wheels on his skates, though, were far narrower than those on roller blades.
Eric's idea was simple--Monique would drive their van down a country road. I would sit in the back with the doors open and video tape his stride and feet as he skated hard behind us. Sounded easy enough. Once I made certain Eric realized I was not George Lucas, we took off in search of a country road, which consisted of driving about one mile.
We drove several miles down the empty road, which passed a dozen farms. "This is good," announced Eric.
We stopped and opened the backdoors of the van. Eric showed me how to work the camera. I didn't pay much attention; I was more concerned with figuring out how I was going to keep from falling out of the back of the van. My balance would be all fucked up as I focused on video taping, zooming in on his legs and feet. "You take off and then I'll come after ya."
Monique turned the van around and started back down the several miles of country road with which we were now familiar. At first, everything went well. Eric kept a nice easy pace and I was able to monitor him. "All right, let's kick into gear!" he yelled.
Monique hit the gas and Eric came screaming after us. He was freaking fast, man, and took huge, powerful strides. That's when I heard the first dog bark. Then another. Then another. The barking got closer and closer.
"Do you hear those dogs?"
"I don't hear anything," replied Monique.
"Huh. I could swear I heard some dogs barking close by."
As I video taped Eric's feet, I decided to zoom out for his legs. I zoomed out too far and ended up getting a good look behind Eric. Four big dogs were tearing down the road behind him, gaining ground quickly. As I yelled a warning to him, about eight more dogs joined the hunt, tearing out from the farms we were passing. In case your math sucks, twelve large farm dogs of various breeds were now barreling down on Eric.
He was now aware of them and yelled to Monique, "Slow down! I need to get in the van!"
Monique misunderstood and hit the gas. I yelled to her, "No, no! He said slow down!"
She kept her foot on the gas and I watched as Eric became a dot in the distance. He was screaming like a banshee. Finally, Monique realized what was going on and made Uey. We returned to find Eric fighting for his life in the middle of the pack of dogs, barking and jumping at him, with their teeth nashing. He was using all his strength to stay on his feet. If he went down, he would become a human chew toy.
We honked at the dogs and scattered them by driving into the pack. Eric, somewhat bloodied and shaken, with his speedskating uniform ripped in numerous places, jumped into the back of the van just as the dogs regrouped and came after him, again. We zipped away with dogs running after us for about a mile before they finally gave up and returned home.
"I didn't know they used dogs in speedskating. Is that a new thing for this year?"
Eric just shook his head and smiled. "I can't fucking wait for winter."
"Oh, let me know when you start your winter training. I can ride on the sled as the dogs chase you from behind and get some good footage of your stride from behind."
He didn't speak to me again the rest of the gig.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
TO ALL THE KIDS WHO WERE BORN IN THE
1930's 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's !!First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they carried us.
They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes.
Then after that trauma, our baby cribs were covered with bright colored lead-based paints.
We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, not to mention, the risks we took hitchhiking.
As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or air bags.
Riding in the back of a pick up on a warm day was always a special treat.
We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle.
We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this.
We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter and drank soda pop with sugar in it, but we weren't overweight because......
WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!!
We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on.
No one was able to reach us all day. And we were O.K.
We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.
We did not have Playstations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, no video games at all, no 99 channels on cable, no video tape movies, no surround sound, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet or Internet chat rooms..........WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!
We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were nolawsuits from these accidents.
We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever.
We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays,made up games with sticks and tennis balls and although we were told it would happen, we did not put out very many eyes.
We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just yelled for them!
Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!
The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!
This generation has produced some of the best risk!-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever!
The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas.
We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned
HOW TODEAL WITH IT ALL!
And YOU are one of them! CONGRATULATIONS!
You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow up as kids, before the lawyers and the government regulated our lives for our own good.
And while you are at it, forward it to your kids so they will know how brave their parents were.
Kind of makes you want to run through the house with scissors, doesn't it?!
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Sunday, April 6, 2008
You can check the story out at http://www.saveinheritance.com. Please use it as a segue way to discuss the topic with your family, parents, grandparents, etc. You may very well be surprised to hear of their plans for their demise, and you may need to correct it; trust me. It's been absolutely awful. I can't even begin to describe it and my mother's pain.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
No, a new party will not be formed. Too bad. With a new party, we might actually see this country become something it hasn't been in a while... the United States of America. Sometimes, though, wishful thinking is all that keeps me going when it comes to the government.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
The topic of the show was getting your boyfriend to marry you. The core of the host’s solution? All single women everywhere should stop having sex with guys, forcing them to marry to get the goods. Such a solution is pointless. One, it’s punishing yourself. Two, it will never happen. So, what’s the point? You got me. I guess it doesn’t solve anything and the host can blame you for his advice not working because you keep having sex. It’s a great way to defend your position and look like you have ample knowledge because even if one woman complains she stopped having sex and still can’t get a guy to marry her, the host can say, “Well, other women must be having sex still, so that’s why my advice isn’t working in; it’s not on me or the advice, it’s on other women.” And then you keep listening to the show.
The other issue is why is it a problem if you’re a woman and you don’t get married? Why is it necessary? If you want to get married and your boyfriend won’t marry you, break up. Don’t come up with ways to force him–again, the advice was pretty much stop sleeping with him. Walk away. If he wants to get married, he’ll come after you and ask. Anything less than that, tell him to stop calling and to go away. You want different things and it’s not a good idea to complicate such a relationship by manipulating the guy into marriage. Do you really think that will work out?
He doesn’t want to marry, you do, walk away. Period. If you find yourself getting unrealistic advice from a source, find a new source or at least consider a few other sources.
Friday, March 14, 2008
I'll be adding one next week and we'll keep you posted. It's about how I helped an olympian train in North Dakota...
Friday, March 7, 2008
Friday, February 29, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
NIU Grad and Author Calls for New Approach to Campus Shootings and Pledges Book Sales to NIU Memorial Scholarship Fund
CHICAGO, Feb. 22 -- On February 14th, the anniversary of the official release date of his book "God is a Woman: Dating Disasters," comedian Ian Coburn prepared to celebrate the book's success. He then heard of the tragedy at his alma mater and wanted desperately to both offer support and bring attention to what he believes is the cause of these tragic shootings. Ian has pledged all personal earnings from book sales between February 14th through the end of March '08 to the NIU February 14th Memorial Scholarship Fund (several of the stories in the book take place at NIU and Ian hopes they will serve to remind us all of what a fun and great campus it is to attend). He asked that we release this statement on his behalf:
"I am drained from these shootings, the feeling of helplessness they bring, the fear they create which hangs over every campus like a dark cloud, and the net cast out for causes which always comes back empty of solutions. Instead, it is filled only with speculation, blaming everything from video games to guns to the lack of legally concealed firearms to mental illness to Godlessness to the Internet. Shooters share three traits: they are unhappy, they blame others for their unhappiness, and they don't know how to express or deal with their problems within socially acceptable norms. It's not just shootings among youth that's on the rise; it's drug use, alcoholism and violence in general. More and more, our children are growing up in a culture of irresponsibility and blame (as an educator I have witnessed this first- hand), and are being taught that their community is responsible for their unhappiness. They are not learning how to function properly in their community or how to deal with their shortcomings. Whatever we do, little ears are listening, little eyes watching, and little minds forming. If you lose the Presidential election, the other guy cheated; 26,000 Patriots fans are contesting the Super Bowl, blaming inaccurate timekeeping for the loss; when schools punish student misbehavior, parents intervene by threatening to sue and schools renege; the most influential Presidential candidate plagiarizes and shrugs it off; simple games like tag are being outlawed because some students aren't as skilled as others. The erroneous message is that you don't have to learn to function within your community; rather, the community will change to cater to your needs and whims. In an increasingly complex world we are robbing our children of the tools they need to cope. The battles I fought on the playground and in school built my character, enabled me to deal with my shortcomings, and prepared me to face the realities of life and disappointment, leading to my successes. It is our culture to where we need to turn our studies to find a solution to shootings. An exceptional response strategy is not the solution. NIU taught us that; they are to be commended on their strategy and quick response but even that proved ineffective to stop bloodshed. I don't know if this statement will make a difference or circulate; I only know that I had to make it."
Ian Coburn is available for interviews and additional thoughts on the subjects of school shootings and the topics of his book. You may learn more at www.godisawoman.net and contact him directly at firstname.lastname@example.org or via Firefly Glow Publishing at 773-477-7528.
So far I haven't received any interest from the media but I have had a few bloggers re-post and contact me, a few listed below. So, hopefully word will spread and we will work toward solving the problem. We can't keep having people killed in these shootings but if we don't look at the real issue, it will continue to grow as a cultural problem.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Jack Thompson blames video games. (I don't know who this guy is but as far as I know, there has been no evidence that Steven Kazmierczak, the shooter at NIU, played video games.) In a Chicago Tribune survey by Eric Zorn that asked readers to offer reasons for these shootings, one reader stated all acts of violence are done "by children or grandchildren of the 60's generation." Another blamed legal abortion because it sends a message that death is okay. Another blamed all increase in violence on the Internet. Another blamed discrimination and people being picked on by others. Finally, one blamed American men and asked, "What is wrong with American men?" Experts and part of the public blame guns, as well as the ease with which one can purchase illegal firearms. Other experts and a different cross-section of the public cite the inability of people to carry their own concealed firearms as the cause. Some blame mental illness.
Let's actually look for the potential cause; the common-denominators in all these shootings, shall we? Instead of just pulling stuff out of our asses. What do all these shooters have in common? They are not all mentally ill. They have not all been picked on or discriminated against. They did not all buy their guns illegally. They are not all men. Hm. Must be something else. What? What do the shooters have in common? Three things: they are unhappy, they blame other people for their unhappiness, and they don't know how to express themselves properly within acceptable social norms. Okay, now we're getting somewhere. Where are they learning these traits? Um, from society, schools, and parents.
We live in a culture that tells people if you're are unhappy, it is someone else's fault, not your own. If you're fat, it's the fault of fast food restaurants; better outlaw trans fat. Over 24,000 Patriots fans have signed a petition asking the NFL to review the Superbowl because they claim the clock should have ran out before the Giants scored the final touchdown. It's not Belichick's poor coaching (going for it on 4 & 13 instead of kicking a field goal and airing the ball out four times with 3 timeouts and 30 seconds left on the clock) or the Giants good play that won the game; it's not the Patriots fault they lost, it's the guy who runs the clock who cost them the game. If you don't win the Presidential election, the other guy clearly cheated (forget that if you had just won your home state you would have won--I voted for Gore, so shut up). Remember, whatever we do, whatever we say, little ears are always listening. Little minds are always taking it in and forming personalities and rationale with the information.
We have created a culture of blame and selfishness for our children. Dodgeball, kickball, and tag have been outlawed in some schools because some kids aren’t as fast as others or get picked last, so it’s unfair. (I was bad at physics and chemistry; other kids were quite good. Shouldn’t those courses have been outlawed to keep things fair?) About ten years ago at Regina Dominican High School in Wilmette, Illinois—an all-girl prep school—a student council member mooned cars from inside a school bus on a field trip. The school kicked her off the council and suspended her. Her father, an attorney, threatened to sue and she was reinstated both in school and to the council. I worked for four years at the Latin School of Chicago, a prestigious K-12 prep school. I protected kids from strangers during recess in a public park and directed traffic after school. The school has a rule that you have to let every child play in your game at recess if they want, no matter how that child behaves. I watched kids try to play football, soccer, catch, and so forth, only to have one trouble-maker constantly take the ball and run away with it or kick the football whenever it was put down for the next play. Kids had to spend lots of their valuable recess minutes repeatedly chasing one kid. When they complained, they were reminded they had to let that kid play, that was the rule. If kids were picked on, teachers immediately interfered. During traffic, some parents and some neighbors would park their cars in the middle of the street, park on sidewalks, run the stop sign, curse at me when I made them follow the rules and be safe, and even complain to the school that I did not let them park wherever they wanted for however long they wished.
What message are we sending our kids? That they should not have to learn to live within the rules of their community; rather, their community should bend to their wills or whims. If they are unhappy, it is the community’s fault. If you’re not fast or athletic, don’t work to get better or find a different game to play; no, just make everyone else stop playing the game they love. If you make a mistake, you shouldn’t be held responsible; no, the community should be held responsible. Our children aren’t learning how to interact or socialize in a real-world format.
Simultaneously, we teach instant gratification and unrealistic expectations. Many schools hold contests in which every entrant wins. You may not be the best but you might be the most improved or the most creative; they make up all kinds of awards to be certain every child receives one. Everyone is an overnight success. Dane Cook, for example. In reality, Dane Cook has been a standup for years and invested his life savings into his website before the Internet was big. He took risk and worked hard to become an “overnight success.” We buy and push self-help books that promise us The Secret or how to work just four hours a week. My book God is a Woman: Dating Disasters is a book of my funny misadventures with women as a touring comedian. I wrote it while working at Latin (that’s called paying your dues, another reality of life kids aren’t learning), and added dating advice after each story because there are so many bogus dating advice books out there, someone needed to take a stand. They preach manipulation, telling you how to change your guy if you’re not happy (because your unhappiness is clearly his fault), or promising you they can get you into any woman’s panties, no matter how you look, what you earn, or no matter how big an ass you are. I felt it was high time someone gave some good advice: your happiness is your responsibility, no one else’s, and you can have all the things these books promise precisely as they promise, but not by practicing their advice.
Suddenly, kids hit high school and college. The rules of real-life apply, not the bs ones that have been socially crippling their characters for years. They find themselves unprotected and without a parachute for the first time (that’s the only real “overnight” event in life). How do they react? What should they do or say? They’ve never dealt with disappointment. They’ve never had to work out problems, let alone their own problems. They’re unprepared, making them far more likely to snap when they aren’t instantly gratified and far more likely to feel overwhelmed. It’s only natural they blame other people for their unhappiness; that’s what they’ve been taught and it’s totally acceptable.
Is this why there’s been such an increase in shootings? I can’t say for sure but it seems very likely and reasonable. Teens and young adults aren’t just expressing unhappiness via shootings; other crimes, drug use, and violence are all up, and most likely related to the same cultural cause. Perhaps we should be studying these factors and looking for real causes and solutions to the problem, instead of just randomly picking things out of thin air. Who is to blame for our culture and children’s behavior? Aside from them, that’s easy to answer, just look in the mirror. We’re to blame; we are society. The day you start buying and pushing books that tell you how to be successful by working hard and smart, is the day you can point the finger. Until then, put it in your pocket, swallow hard, and blame yourself.
You may donate to the NIU February 14th fund here: https://webcluster.niu.edu/CreditCard/fdn2_step1.html
I am donating all my proceeds as an author from now through the end of March (a dollar a book) to the fund. Several of the stories take place at NIU and I hope they will serve to paint a more accurate, welcoming picture of the school and its true nature. Also, fifty percent of sales of any of the other products on my site will go to the fund until the end of March, as well. I don’t have money in hand to donate, so this is a good way for me to do it. I commend NIU and DeKalb for their quick response and warnings to students. I am only sorry that they ever had to implement their prearranged strategies and pray they never have to again. Condolences to all those involved and their families.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
He has aligned himself with the Kennedy family, perhaps the largest and most old school political machine. He is calling for Clinton to release her income tax records because she lent money to her own campaign. Yup, sounds like he'll change a lot; definitely not politics as usual. The real question isn't will Obama change things; it's how gullible is the American public? Pretty gullible...
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
It was Super Tuesday yesterday; how exciting... not! I didn't vote, not because I don't have a candidate but because I hate the whole primary process. It's stupid and misleading. For example, they make a big deal about Iowa and New Hampshire. Who cares? The South decides the winner in the actual election; we've all seen that. The South remains united, the North is all over the place. No democratic president in the last forty years, with the exception of Kennedy, has been from the North. Run your candidates and take your chances; don't have a "pre-show" to see who will win, especially when your data is stupid. For example, Obama won a lot of states that traditionally vote Republican. Dems and experts are like, "Oh, he won those states and we need those states." Yeah, that's good reasoning... especially given that there wasn't a Republican candidate on the ticket! If they follow that reasoning, most likely all those states he won will vote Republican in the general election (you know, the real one), and we'll have a Dem Congress and a Republican Pres. (We need a Pres. to match w/the Congress, meaning we need a Dem because Congress will certainly be going even more Dem in the general election. If we don't have that match, little will be accomplished and we as citizens just can't afford that!)
I live in Illinois, so I guess I'm supposed to vote for Obama. Why? Because this is his home state. Oh, that's a great reason. Actually, I'm against Obama and it's because I'm from Illinois. Obama ran pretty much unopposed here, because the Republican candidate for Senator, who was a solid challenger, dropped out of the race when his ex-wife revealed he liked kinky sex and suggested a threesome. Ooh, clearly Jack Ryan couldn't be a good leader, then! So, a last second fill-in was chosen, Alan Keyes, who is a nut and offered no competition. Obama spoke a good game about all the things he was going to do. He looked like he might actually be a leader. But no, before he does or learns anything, he runs for President. If he gets in, he won't be able to do anything because Congress won't respect him and will be jealous. He has failed to deliver on his promises to Illinois because of his campaign. I didn't vote for him so that he could run for President; I voted for him to be an Illinois Senator. Once he's proven himself with a few terms, if he wants to run, great. Right now, I have nothing by which to gage him, except for the fact that he isn't doing his job and has broken that promise to Illinios, already. That's not a good trait. Also, he seems hungry to be President; impatient to wait until he has more experience or afraid he will screw up and taint his record. I don't want an impatient President or one afraid to make a mistake.
Obama also has flipped personalities. He used to talk about the issues; now, he just shrieks, "Change... change... change... I'm exicted... change!" Who makes the least change in government and the status quo? The candidates who scream about "Change!"
Gotta go with Clinton; has the experience, has paid her dues, shows extreme patience, both with her husband and in her own policital career.
Truthfully, neither is a leader. Once again, no leaders are running, just politicians. Politicians want to see their names in history books; leaders write history.
Colin Powell and Al Gore, where are you guys? You are the candidates we need! Scratch that; you are the leaders we need!
Monday, February 4, 2008
I watched baseball dub World Series winners "World Champions" for years, despite the strength of teams in places like Japan. Finally, they did away that title after Japan won the real world title in world-wide contest a few years ago. Hell, the U.S. didn't even make the playoffs! In fact, Canada--who cares about baseball about as much as Bush cares about the economy--beat us!
In sports like basketball and football, though, our winners are still "world champions." Really? We've been getting killed in world basketball tournaments, mostly because half of what happens in the NBA is called and our fundamentals are so bad. Guess what? Running from half-court with the ball or even the key, into a slam dunk is actually traveling. In football, some Canadian teams might very well give us a run for our money. They play a much tougher game there (to be expected from the folks who invented a sport like hockey and whose national sport is lacrosse). The goalpost is at the front of the endzone and is unpadded; you hit it hard, you just go down. The field is like 20 yards longer. You only get 3 downs, not 4. Defense lines up a yard off the ball, not on top of it, making it much harder to run. You can hit the quarterback. You can bump receivers. Plus, if we had to play in Canada in the winter... well, when Green Bay is considered Florida, you've got trouble...
When will we stop the arrogance of calling our teams "world champs?"
Thursday, January 31, 2008
After talking about it for months, I finally took my dating column and turned it into a blog format. Why did it take so long? I wanted it to be the same look as my website, so I had to learn how to make that work with blogging software (I chose Wordpress). Then, I had to learn how to build a better website by learning better software (Dreamweaver CS3--rocks!). Oh yeah, then I had to make the webiste...
So, you can read my column "Lunch is Not a Date" in its new blog format at lunchisnotadate.org. I hope you will take the time to participate!
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
"oh good. your book will be on kindle. yeh we can all find another way to read a piss poor book. i dont know why i'm bothering even wasting my time writing a comment your just going to delate and not let anyone else read. coward. i have been trying to get published for nearly a year and i red your book. the 4 worst books ever written are yours, tucker max, maddox, and chaz Chad Kultgen's. i am a better writer than all of you and can't get published. having read your books i don't even want to be published now. they make me not want to read or write. i can't even write a review on amazon because i don't have a credit card but my reviews on all your books are coming out on barnes and noble. big surprise there's nowhere to write on your site how bad your book is or on maddox and chad doesn't even have one and tucker aproves his before they post so i know anything i write won't go up there. maybe someone will read this before you delate it and save themself from a hrorible read. i am no longer tryhing to get published if this is the kinds of stuff they publish now they can have it. you guys are all a bunch of talentless losers who just got lucky or knew someone and have lots of money to sit around and not have to work."
In case you don't know, Tucker Max and Maddox are two of the most popular personalities on the Internet. I never heard of "chaz Chad Kultgen" but I googled his name and got some info.
I'm not going to criticize the heckler for not liking my book. I really don't have the time or care. Plus, if you don't like my work, or anyone elses for that matter, that's cool and expected. Sure, I'd like everyone to like my work but that's simply unrealistic. I will, however, criticize the heckler for being precisely what he claims I and these other authors are: lazy.
Are you kidding me? I work my ass off and don't get paid for anything but the books I sell. I did an interview this morning with a popular site for twenty-year-olds that will come out next week. I'm busy putting proposals together and submitting them to publishers and agents for future books. I have to stay on top of all my columns, blogging, and business aspects, like updating my site and getting "Lunch is Not a Date" into a blog format. It is amazing how busy I get. Hell, I finally did laundry for the first time in a month, Monday, and I haven't even had time to fold the clothes and put them away, yet! I have other projects in the works, too, and don't have a day job, so I have no real money (I am far from rich). I was the hardest touring comedian in the 1990's, with the record setting 106-straight weeks on the road.
Tucker Max maintains a site and business of sites known as Rudius Media. (I actually applied unsuccessfully to have a blog with them, detailing my experience as a traffic coordinator for a ritzy private school in Chicago; funny stuff.) His company has acted as an agent and landed some of their bloggers book deals. His book I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell has done remarkably well, and continues to do so. He has two previous books that I found on Amazon, the first one published in 2001. They do not come close to sharing the success of his most recent book.
Maddox is the author of another very successful book--The Alphabet of Manliness. He has been posting to his site for ten years.
Tucker and Maddox are so successful, I offered them both the opportunity to read my book to provide quotes for the back. Why? For the same reason I approached the NY Times--they have a built-in audience who greatly respects their opinions. They've earned that credibility and the prestige to provide quotes for books. (Tucker declined, I never heard back from Maddox.)
Chad Kultgen authored a book called The Average American Male. He has a couple screenplays in production. (Getting published is ridiculously hard; selling a screenplay is at least twice as hard.)
What do the four of us have in common? Really only one thing: We are far from lazy. Lazy? Call us lazy? You've got to be fucking kidding me. It's obvious that we've all worked our asses off and continue to do so. Heckler? You've been trying to sell your book for "nearly a year?" Ooh. Sounds like a lot of work. You can't even take the time to use capital letters, proper grammar, or check your spelling. I can't even imagine what your manuscript looks like. Is it even typed? (Go to http://www.benderspink.com/ and click "Submit Script." I bet the heckler submits his work like that.)
It's not us that are lazy; clearly, it's you. Maddox and Tucker created their own audiences via hard, consistent work. (And Tucker had to fit in enough time to get plastered and do crazy things to write about through all that!) In truth, they helped pave the way for books like mine and Chad's. Instead of being jealous and lazily giving up, push harder. Hell, I tell you how I published on my site. You can pretty much do all that on your own without a publisher.
Don't follow our examples, though, because there's someone who trumps as all.
I had a tough childhood. My parents got separated when I was three, my father was never around, he kidnapped me for a year when I was five, yada yada yada. (Notice I make no excuses and didn't give up on life.) My oldest nephew, eleven, has even a tougher time with his mom (my sister). He has a two and five-year-old sister and brother, respectively. You all know my older sister has problems. They often run out of food (if I was rich, I'd feed them, heckler). My nephew worries about that. Does he give up? Throw in the towel? No. At age eleven, he pushes through.
When I dropped off his sister yesterday after a day of working out at the aquarium ("I want up," "I want down," "I want up," "I want down...;" I spent the day lifting her up and down so she could see the tanks better. Forget the gym; take a toddler to the aquarium or zoo), my nephew showed me his piggy bank, filled with $14 and some odd change. I asked him where he got it. He took me to his room. There, he told me about his business, new this year. He sells parachutes he makes from index cards, trash bags, and other everyday household items. He has four different sizes for prices from 25 cents to $1.00. He developed the "manufacturing technique" himself and employs several friends now, because business is booming since he started it on January 7th. Today, he delivers an order of ten large parachutes for $10. Yesterday he delivered an order to a six-year-old for 50 cents who wanted a parachute large enough to hold her small stuffed animals. He has developed a hot air balloon, which he will begin selling in a few weeks.
My nephew, at age eleven (how many of us could do this at eleven? Not me, that's for sure), sucks it up and does what he can; not for himself but to contribute to the family income, so that they will all have enough food. Fucking unbelievable and my new mentor. I'm sure, though, heckler, that his parachutes won't stand up to a 100mph wind and therefore suck. Did you think of his idea first but then never implement it? Probably. You're a quitter. Nothing wrong with that but don't project that onto those of us who never quit. Face up to it and move on. Buy yourself a stuffed animal and a parachute in which to carry it... you'll feel better. Don't worry; my nephew doesn't take credit cards, so you're good.
Tucker's site is http://www.tuckermax.com
Maddox's site is http://www.maddox.xmission.com
My nephew does not have a site... yet...