Category: Being a man

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It’s been a long haul

Wow, December since the last entry.

A lot has happened, and yet nothing has.

I’m still at the same shitty job, hope is fading. I still don’t know what to do about the other half situation and the odds of finding another job seem very low at best.

As to my future I haven’t a clue.

There have been some bright spots. I’ve been able to play a couple of times sexually and those times have been enjoyable.

Apparently due to a clerical error, I’m now at risk of losing my job which led to me having a major panic/anxiety attack this morning because I was going to be late to work. You’d think that wasn’t cause for a panic attack, but here’s how it went down.

A freeway transition was closed, forcing me to divert to another freeway. I got off at the next exit and tried turning around because I was going in a completely opposite direction from the direction that I needed to go. As I got off the freeway, the inbound entrance (going in the direction I needed to go,) was closed.

OK, I started trying to take surface routes from where I was, to where I needed to be. No joy! One dead end after another, and of course the navigation system was telling me to head back to the freeway (that was closed) useless!

So I pull over to the curb, fire up the maps program on the phone and start looking at the roads, trying to chart a course that would get me to work. I was after all, only 4 miles away. Trouble is, the dead ends are because there is no direct way to get where I needed to go. To traverse the 4 miles I was going to have to go 15 miles. Okay fine! I put the car in gear and there’s this grinding noise as I make yet another U-turn.

What the FUCK???

I put the car back in park, get out, and see that as I pulled over to the curb there must have been a traffic cone lying on its side which is now firmly wedged under the car. GREAT! Just FUCKING GREAT!

I have less than 10 minutes to get to work and 15 miles to go not counting delays caused by the invariably poorly timed lights in San Diego.

This isn’t going to work! I’m going to be late! If I’m late they’ll give me an occurrence, if I get another occurrence, I’m gonna be fired.

And that’s when the meltdown began.

Rage! Burning bright, roaring in my ears, my chest heaving and heart pounding. Panic set in and I fucking lost it. I’m crying, I’m laughing, I’m cursing. Head pounding, tunnel vision setting in and I’m fully out of control.

I do the math in my head, if I call to say I’m going to be late I get an occurrence, If I call out for the whole day, I use up one of my last sick days, but I don’t get an occurrence.

I call out for the day.

1st Problem solved.

Now I have time to address the next problem, how do I get this fucking cone out from underneath the car?

I need more clearance between the street and the underside of the car. A car jack comes to mind. Yep! That’ll do the trick…

My car has run-flat tires, there is no jack in the trunk. DAMN IT!!!!!

There are no gas stations as far as I can see, So limping into one and using a floor jack is out of the question!

Still in the waning grip of the anxiety attack I’m suddenly very tired and very depressed. Mentally I kick myself for being such a weak fucked up pussy.

I lean against the hood just about to start really sobbing, furtively I glance around to see if anyone is going to see my second meltdown in 20 minutes.

As I glance around, I notice the driveways into businesses are all very steep. It’s characteristic of San Diego where you’re bound to damage your front end trying to get to an ice cream shop. Gotta keep the paint and body shops in business right???

Humm,

I get back in the car pull across the street to the steepest driveway I can find. Slowly, I back up the incline stopping where I guess the largest distance between the bottom of the car and gutter in the street will be. (As an aside, did you know that some cars won’t let you get into reverse if the fucking driver door is open? “For your safety and convenience… MY ASS!”

My guess is a good one. There’s enough gap to yank the offending cone from under the car. I don’t see any damage to the car. Of course, I’m looking in the dark using my phone as a flashlight, where the fuck is my Maglight?

2nd Problem Solved 

It’s 35 minutes past my start time.

If I worked for a real company, I’d have made my way to work, gone to the men’s room, washed my hands and gotten to work.

I don’t work for a real company. I work for a bunch of shitheads who are more into punishing their employees regardless of the situation, and making the workplace as hostile and stressful as they possibly can, within the limits of the law.

I tell the navigation system to take me back to my apartment. 40 minutes later I’m closing my front door taking my clothes off and crawling back into bed.

It’s warm and cozy and I drift off to sleep.

After a couple hours sleep, I wake, jerk off and begin contemplating the 3rd Problem, while sorting clothes for a trip to the laundry room.

The 3rd Problem is a bit trickier. I need a job, but at what cost?

Jobs are supposed to be simple exchanges. I provide a service you need and you pay for that service. My politics, personal situation, and buy-in to your company politics or anything else should be irrelevant.

I work, you pay, end of discussion. If I don’t work, you don’t pay… THAT’S the punishment for me not being there.

Modern American Businesses don’t see it this way. They seem to think that you’re supposed to feel privileged to work for them, and part of that privilege is that you’re supposed to allow them to run your fucking life. “Oh sorry you can’t take that day off because we need you. Oh You had a vacation planned? Sorry you’ll have to cancel it.”

Did I earn that vacation time? Yes? Then I’m taking it! Do I understand and accept that I’m taking a day off without pay? Then Shut the fuck up!

What? You mean you don’t enjoy being abused by management, and our whiny, perpetual victim-class clients, who we’re charging a shitload of money for our product? What’s not to like? You can buy stock in our company… but you’ll never be able to spend it. What is wrong with you?

Ahh there’s the crux of it… In the end, the company wants you to feel that no matter what, it’s your fault. If you buy into it being your fault, then you’ll also buy into their right to punish you for your “Failings”.

WHO IS JOHN GAULT?

No company or corporation is your friend. No Manager, Supervisor, Vice President, or CEO is your friend. You are not their friend, you are a FREE PERSON.

Friendship predicated on gain, is not friendship. Your life, your joy, and your sorrows, are yours alone. It is not up to your employer to punish you, if you’re not at work, the only right they have is, not to pay you.

As a FREE PERSON, you are responsible for your creations and owe them to no one. You are not obligated to sing the praises of a company or a god that you don’t believe in. You are not obligated to give anything to anyone that you do not choose to give. That includes your time and energy. Likewise, you are not owed anything you have not earned. 

I do not like panic attacks and I don’t ever wish to experience another one because I fear what a company or manager will do.

The only way to win this game, is not to play

3rd Problem – Solution Pending…

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Read an interesting article

The article is here

There were a number of interesting things Mr. Green points out about not only the gay culture but also about the greater culture.

Chief among these points seems to be the thought that men, specifically the time honored connections among men are being savaged by a society that seeks to devalue anything that is distinctly male.

I’m not sure how much of Mr. Green’s article is a reflection of his personal experience due to his choice of friends, versus the larger community. Within the gay community there are layers and subcultures, each person gravitates toward the place that is most familiar.

I found however, that some of his points resonated with me. 

I was intrigued that the linked article above, was removed from The Huffington Post. What in this article justifies that?

There’s the question…

The irony that a Gay writer was published on a manosphere website is not lost on me.

Make of it what you will, this piece was something that crossed my horizon and for a moment was bright and shiny enough to capture my attention.

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I think it serves him right – United Passenger

United Plane

OK, 

So the way I heard the story, is that a United flight had to make room for a flight crew at another airport. United asked for volunteers to give up their seats, to be bumped to the next flight.

Four people said, “Sure” then ONE of those people, a Doctor realized that the NEXT flight was the NEXT day. Then decided he was too important to wait because he had patients to attend to so he needed to be on his original flight.

Dumbass Passenger

The first thing that pops to mind is… Hey DUDE perhaps you should have looked before your leapt.

I’ve been in this situation. I’ve been the guy who gave up his seat for other folks in an overbooked situation. I’ve also been the guy who gave up his seat to a person like this Doctor when they realized that the next flight out was going to be crazy later than they thought it would be.

(In that instance the flight attendants asked if there was someone on the plane who could afford to be late. In fact, in my case it was a United flight. The airline treated me like a king, nice hotel room at the airport on the airline’s dime. A really sumptuous dinner, and the next day… They put me in First Class to get me to my destination.)Dumbass Passenger2

It was all very civil and I’d volunteer to get bumped again if it came to it.

From what I understand, at around this point things went WAY off the rails.

The video clip I saw is indeed disturbing, but some passengers on the flight are saying this guy lost his shit and became a raging asshole. (Again, DUDE you probably should have payed attention to what you were volunteering for.)

Anyone who’s flown in recent years knows that if you cause a ruckus you’re not going to be on a plane. It doesn’t even take much of a ruckus, you are at the mercy of the flight attendants, the TSA, and the Air Marshal.

BUT there’s always some moronic asshole who thinks they’re more important than anyone else.

So guess what snowflake? Your ass is going to be dragged off the fucking plane.

Yeah maybe this guy got roughed up, but he had a simple choice. He could cooperate like a civilized human being and allow the Airline to see what else could be done… OR he could pitch a hissy fit and get dragged off the plane.

Well, we know what this idiot did.

But for me there is another issue…

This guy caused a scene, got dragged off a plane, and delayed 200+ OTHER paying passengers, not to mention whatever trauma his actions caused to the children who might have been on that plane witnessing this insanity, and not understanding what all the fuss was.

He’s a Doctor for god’s sake. Pull out that AMEX Gold and buy another ticket on another airline get home, then send your grievance to United. Hell, they’d probably have just refunded the cost of his ticket, or given him a travel voucher.

There is absolutely no excuse to delay a bunch of other people getting anywhere because you don’t like something.

Put your shit away, Sit DOWN, Strap in, and Shut the fuck up.

Or in his case, take it off the plane and deal with it like a fucking man. This guy, acted like a spoiled child according to witnesses.

There is absolutely nothing in my travels short of death, that can’t be fixed with a little kindness, firmness & patience.

The airline doesn’t want a scene, you don’t want a scene, and together with cooler heads both of you can come to an arrangement.

Crap, had I been on that plane, I’d have given him my seat, called him what he was; a spoiled dickless, petulant child, then told him to sit down and shut the hell up for the duration of the flight. 

At which point I’d have gathered my belongings, smiled at the flight attendants and asked, “OK, what do we need to do now?”

In all likelihood the Flight crew would have seen to it, that I got where I was going smoothly and perhaps in a bit of style.

I have ZERO sympathy for this guy.  

He was all worried about not getting home in time for his patients… Well, hey moron you didn’t get home for them anyway and now you’re bitching about being in a hospital. What, You don’t like Doctors?

DUMBASS! He had choices and at every turn he appears to have made the wrong one

If I were one of his patients… I’d be severing that relationship in a heartbeat. 

I prefer Doctors with cool heads and pragmatic approaches.

Is it just me that sees the epic fail on his behalf?

But he does serve as a cautionary tale to the rest of the rabble clogging our airports…

Fuck around and you get your ass kicked.

Maybe we need a little more ass kicking and a little less “Oh that poor snowflake”

I could be wrong…

______________________________________________________________________

4/13/2017

So more has come out. United originally asked for volunteers, then when no-one could be inconvenienced, they went to a lottery. This guy LOST the lottery. Hey, that’s the breaks. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. Get over it.

Then things went off the rails. This guy refused to leave the plane like an adult. Chicago PD came on board and told him to leave, he chose instead to fight with the police. BAD MOVE.

After all, doesn’t every snowflake know that the police are fascists? 

My original thinking still stands.

Get a ticket on another airline, lodge a complaint and demand a refund from United. You paid for services that were not rendered, that’s what an adult does. Regardless,  you cooperate with the authorities, have a little grace and work the problem.

But the other passengers, the ones saying “Oh, this is wrong,” the ones videoing the event, you know the OTHER people on the plane who were too self important, who could have simply said, “Hey, I’ll give up my seat,” putting an end to the situation. Where were you? Surely ONE of you could have taken the next flight.

Instead of paying lip service to “How wrong this was” any one of them could have stepped up and everything would have been OK. But no-one did, because everyone was too self absorbed and couldn’t be bothered to look at their schedule to see if they had some flexibility.

Apparently, because no-one knows how things work, no-one thought to ask if United could help them with their rental cars, or rescheduling connecting flights or simply asked “Since I’m accommodating your needs, can you help accommodate mine?” Hell, I’d have simply asked for a travel voucher on another future flight to a vacation destination, say Hawaii?

This is a symptom of the overarching problem with everyone thinking the world revolves around them. 

Helpful Hint: IT DOESN’T

We live in a society of rules. Some of those rules are enforced by rule of law, others however, are simply good manners. Both types of rules help insure that we live in a nice place where we are not angry all the time and always fighting to get our cut. 

The problem is, too many people think they’re special, entitled, and better than everyone else.

United, screwed up… Given. This dumbass compounded the problem by deciding to be an asshole. Chicago PD was probably a tad over zealous. All this tracks back to an easily predictable outcome when no-one can think beyond themselves or their own selfish needs.

He still got exactly what he deserved.

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One of those nights…

Hell

It’s hot. 

Not brutally HELL hot, but warm enough that sleep is hard to come by.

Like most guys I’ve already tried using our built-in sleeping aid. Multiple times! There’s only so many times you can get your rocks off and not fall asleep before you say fuck it!

That’s where I am now. The fuckit phase. My body is happily relaxed, I’m sitting here at my desk naked as the day I was born, albeit a bit hairier. The other half is tossing and turning, and snoring so loud it’s rattling the walls. This may be one of those nights where I sleep here in the office / guest room.  I have a tall glass of water but am contemplating something stronger. 

Rise of the Guardians Sandman

The Sandman is freakin late! I have a good mind to punch him square in the face when he does finally come.

It’s supposedly not a good idea to work on computers or iPads if you’re trying to fall asleep. but I don’t want to lay in bed looking at the ceiling wondering if I should abuse and frustrate myself again. Besides, I’m running low on personal lubricant! After all there’s only so many orgies you can host before your lube supply shows the strain.

So here I am blogging.

Recently I’ve been asking myself why I blog at all. The answer seems to be that this fulfills a need to express myself and I think of the blog as more like a diary of sorts. It’s obviously not like the locked up super secret private journal that many people keep. No, this is out there and public, and would probably prevent me from seeking political office.

Maybe that too is a good thing, I’m not sure I could sell my soul the way our politicians have to just to get elected. I don’t lie very well.

03 19 2014 plaid 7

Don’t get me wrong… I can lie better than any politician you care to name. It’s just that I choose to live telling as few lies as is possible. “Yes that dress has a slimming effect on you.” (Subconsciously, I’m thinking, “in the same way black slims down the size of an 18 wheeler.”)

Lying about my principals, or core beliefs is something that I’d rather not do. My preference is to simply keep my mouth shut and in extreme cases; at a party for example, I’ll have another drink. The trouble is, if I were running for office I’d be drunk off my ass most of the time.  Maybe that would work. Our politicians seem to be drunk or high more often than not. I’d hate to believe that they were naturally as stupid and dishonest as they appear to be. Realistically, they probably are, but that’s another discussion.

Porn?

Kiss, kiss, kiss, lick, lick, lick, suck, suck, suck, fuck, fuck, fuck, ropey globs of cum, artificially happy & satisfied, expressions. The dudes in gay films are happy because they just made 3k! Hell, I’d be smiling too! I don’t know what the pay scale is for the cast in a straight movie. I suppose the women are paid pretty well, but the dudes aren’t.  Thus the saying, “gay for pay.”

However, while I usually don’t make it through the first scene of a porn flick before I fall asleep. Most porn is predictable. Well, at least the first 5 minutes of the first scenes, that’s usually all I see before I’m off in dreamland. Tonight it’s unlikely that will work

DoleQueue

I’m amped about jobs, and money, and trying to chart a future (and failing) which is adding to my angst. That’s how I can be physically very relaxed and mentally my brain is in overdrive.  

Funny, my writing this seems to have quieted my mind. 

Gentle reader you should probably book mark this one, if my writing it put me to sleep, You reading it should work pretty much like the best sleeping pill you can buy.

Donations gratefully accepted!

Good night!

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OH! For God’s SAKE! Water Pistols?

Standard Water Pistol

The Boy Scouts of America has banned water pistols. It’s been on their books for a while but resurfaces each summer because the BSA reminds folks of the rules in preparation for the season’s activities.

BUT REALLY? I’m caught by the memories of my family and my friends and their families playing with squirt guns.

Across America during the summer folks are playing with super soakers, and hose nozzles and generally having a good time POINTING things at each other.

The Boy Scouts have also banned Nerf Guns, Lazer Tag, Paintball, Airsoft etc, too. (You can shoot at a non-living, non humanform target.) I guess that I can kind of, see banning projectiles.

Lazer Tag is a bit of a stretch. (Stealth, and learning when to dive for cover may be far more relevant to us all in the near future.)

BSA Logo

Lazer Tag is about moving, maintaining cover, and shooting accurately… Ok, maybe that is a bit warlike.

Water pistols???? I can’t help but remember summer outings with scouts where the scoutmaster tried to get us with a bucket of water and we buzzed around him like angry hornets fast and with accuracy that had HIM drenched while we were mostly dry.

No-one gets into a water pistol fight when it’s 100° F thinking tactics or anything other than “Got YA!” with a lot of running around and laughter. 

Water pistols are about the most benign, inexpensive, fun you can have as a child. Who doesn’t have fond memories of loading up a water pistol with Icy water from the ice chest at a family outing?

SCAN0072

I pity anyone who doesn’t remember catching an adult male in the crossfire and thinking, “We’re done for…” only to have that adult whip out a bigger badder squirt gun and chase all the kids, joining in the mayhem. Eventually everyone comes back soaked, laughing, and having made a memory that will put a smile on their face for the rest of their lives.

Some boys in my generation wouldn’t have had the opportunity to build those memories without Scouts. Those boys would never have had a chance to see adult males playing. Moreover, those boys, as they became young men wouldn’t have learned that restraint and letting the little kids “win” is also part of being a man. 

All boys need that kind of experience. It doesn’t matter that they might not get it from their fathers, what matters is that they get it from somewhere.  Scouting should be about those lessons, not legitimizing silly policies in the name of political correctness.

I fondly remember many lessons being taught to me on long warm summer days in the South. 

It seems like we’re stripping away what it is to be children. 

Even worse, it seems like we’re forgetting the simple beauty and joy of Adult Males showing children that it’s ok to play, be silly, and even “lose” a game.

I can tell you as an uncle, it’s really tough to “lose” a game without the children catching on.

You want to build their confidence with the “win”,  but make them work hard for their success. You never want them to feel that you threw the game.

That was a lesson I learned one particular summer in Tennessee just outside of Cookeville. I was watching my father play a game with my little brother. They were whooping and hollering in a pasture, playing some hybrid game of tag.

fireflies aka lightning bugs

I was sitting on a rock smiling as they tussled. I couldn’t join in because I had a big ass bandage on my foot.

Lightning bugs were blinking in the tall grass when Dad came out of the pasture carrying my nearly exhausted brother. Dad had been “caught” 10 times and that was the end of the game. 

As Dad came toward me he stopped. “Son, put your arm around my neck,” he said, helping me get on my feet. “Just keep your weight off your foot as best you can, lean on me, yeah that’s the ticket.” Dad carried his 5 year old and acted like a crutch for his 15 year old, bringing us both in to dinner.