A Quote

John: "I find your thinly veiled disgust to be very charming."

Smart Young Lady: "Well, I find your thinly veiled charm to be disgusting, so I guess we're even..."

I just got owned. Women 1, John 0, go skirts.

Lung Butter

I have the flu. I've been coughing up a lot of lung butter. It's kinda like ejaculating, only instead goo comes out of your lungs, and it doesn't feel good. And girls still won't swallow it. Go figure.



I had my last final on Wednesday. It was at 8:00 in the morning. At this point I had been sick for 3 days or so. Around 9:03 I sneezed - nothing to worry about, I was (and still am) sick after all. But wait, moisture. Damn. I'm sitting between two cute, anxious, yawning lovelys and I've just blown snot all over my hand.

Then I looked down.

I anticipated green globs of gel to be speckled about my hand. Instead I saw what appeared to be a shot of red spraypaint all over my scantron. Vertigo abounds as I realize I had just bubbled in the entire test at random with my own blood.



I move to glance about. Everyone is focused on their tests, surely they won't notice. I peer to my left and right and my gaze is met with respective looks of disgust and horror.

Brunette to my right: "EWwwughghh ew ew ew ew."

Blond to my left: "Oh. My. God. How much blow did you do last night?"

My immediate thought after hearing those reactions was, "my blood-sneeze is going to get a better grade than them," followed by, "I bet I can still get the blond's number," followed by, "Ehhh.. I think I've outgrown my coke-slut faze.." followed by, "who am I kidding, no I haven't."

The brunette, Wendy, asked if I needed a doctor. I answered no, but you should give me your phone number in case I need to call someone later. She was a stupified/impressed that I would have the audacity to hit on her while blood ran down my face, but she said she had a boyfriend. While I doubt that's true, I wasn't going to waste time while I leaked precious bodily fluids. I immediately got up, handed in my gore laiden scantron, and went to the bathroom to tend to my nosebleed.

The moral of the story: My blood-sneeze got a B-, it must have studied a lot harder than I did.

Where have I been?

So. Where was I? Why did I post a number of posts about the election and video game reviews and then delete them? Why does it sting when you pee?

Ok ok, you win, I'll tell you.

1. Where I Was: I've been doing extensive research in the dating field, basically a great experiment on behaving like a human being with decency and self respect. The results later. Also, a tree fell on my house in December and took out my roof (along with my internet) for a substantial amount of time.

2. The Lost Posts: I deleted all my posts between now and November. Why? I write for a local comedy newspaper, and I was just posting my completed stories every two weeks instead of thinking up original content for the site. Articles are assigned, which is why they had to do with Ron Paul and Super Mario instead of sex and relationships and general excess. I felt this was too much of a departure and wasn't congruant with the orginal idea behind this blog, so I took them down. Only smut from here on out, I promise.

3. Stinging Urine: You gots a UTI, brotha, hit tha docta.

So back to the nitty gritty. What crazy buckets of syrup have I gotten myself into over the last few months?

Not. Too. Many.

So I've been trying this thing - treating women with dignity and behaving in the interest of their needs. It feels unnatural to me now, despite the fact that I did that for years longer than I've focused on my needs exclusively. I've been trying to fake it til I make it, but I don't know if it's working out.

I think women can tell, especially when I started going on dates again. Dinner, dancing, the whole shabang. You know, opening doors, spending money, making the big move, etc. Suddenly I was no longer in control, I was the one holding the resume, and that's not my comfort zone. Needless to say this resulted in a lot of evenings that got nowhere (with night ending gems like girl:"This is awkward.." and me:"My god, you taste awful."

I'm still not convinced on trying to be a gentleman, but I am getting the hang of it again. I've been seeing a girl for a few weeks now. She's gorgeous and she seems to dig nice John, or else she wouldn't still be hanging around. The thing is I think deep down she's a lot like me. Passion and naughty whatever that's brewing just below a calm exterior. Can we both fake our way into a loving relationship? Can we each set aside our own self interest long enough to find interest in each other? Yeah ok, probably not, but at least the sex is good. Data collection continues - many tales of the last quarter to come.

Desktop Cleanliness

Believe it or not I experiment with other aspects of my life other than the physical. Today I'm experimenting in desktop cleanliness.

Sure, the headline isn't as eye catching as say, "John Tries Buttsex, Hilarity Ensues," but I'm hoping you appreciate the subtle seduction of my shiny new iMac displaying this every time tickle it out of hibernation.

Proof that not every aspect of a 22 year old man is a mess.

I'm not allowed to blow my seeds of knowledge all over your face... book.

It's official, Facebook users find me abusive (click picture above to enlarge)

Abusive?! Pish-posh! What in Uncle Sam's red-white-and-blue balls sort of fascist bolognae is that? Censorship? On the intertubes? Egads!!

Tomorrow they'll be saying hate-fucking Sarah Palin with a pipe cleaner is abusive... hey wait a minute...

Are you nice? I was...

Many drinks, cigarettes, and long term relationships later, I've come to accept the fact that I've become what at the outset of puberty I would have categorized as a womanizing douchebag. Lo! How the wise become wiser!

The heartfelt warmth of genuine romantic love certainly paints misogyny as a lonely behavior, but for what it lacks in soulful fiber it makes up for in safety. Let me explain. When I was dating the woman I was convinced I was going to marry some time ago, I had certain expectations. I expected her to be kind, to flash me a smile every once and awhile, to not go out and fuck her chemistry TA in an effort to preserve her facade of a future in medicine, etc. Needless to say, I was crushed.

It was a difficult lesson to learn, but I no longer have expectations for woman. Without expectation I now could care less if they go out and ball some bro-tacular gentleman on the couch in the middle of a crowded frat party. I don't care if they snort coke in their spare time, participate in a drunken hit and run, or forget to wish me a happy birthday. In the present, if they are there and are interesting, I'll give them my attention, but upon departure they might as well have ended up a puddle leftover from a back alley abortion (circa '86 thru '89 - I don't condone sex with teenagers). They become strangers to me, and I've never put much stock into strangers.

Basically this is all just leading up to a short list of personally fulfilling activities I participate in now that I don't waste my emotions on the women I sleep with:

1. Finding alternate, better looking women to sleep with.
2. Smoking tobacco products without fear of retribution in the form of sex withheld.
3. Paying for my dinner only.
4. Getting rip-roaring drunk without concern that I will wake up in a strange woman's bed and betray my beloved.
5. Taking needlessly long shits with the door open.

Now that I think about it, I think the only woman I will ever truly love is my mother, she is quite dear.

Wordle

This is compiled with words from my posts so far using Wordle. I liked how it put "Zelda" in there with words like "ejaculation" and "smarmy".

(And yes, I totally ripped this off from somebody else).