I hadn’t felt like writing in a few days. I went for a smoke at the club and enjoyed the weather rolling through. I have had a flurry of dark observations. Partly inspired by the dumb fog and the rain that refused to visit, I had some doozies.
An A**hole Is Right Two Times A Day
A friend that I think is a calibrating point in my life could be considered an “a-hole” of sorts. He taught me two big things. (1) To have a great partner is to be a great partner. (2) You won’t find that partner until you get over yourself. I have been able to enjoy sex more since I took his advice.
An Oddball Influencer Can Be Right On Occasion, Like a Flashing VCR Clock
A man who disappeared into the aether, who was derided by many as a phony, accidentally gave me something actionable in my life that worked. (1) A bizarre sex tip that worked well and is a tool of sorts. (2) Told me to wear better clothes now that I am a “grown a** man”. That guy has completely disappeared. No books, courses, Twitter, etc. He gave a speech years ago, just to vanish when it seemed that he saw some measurable data. I hope that he didn’t have to run from the IRS and/or didn’t pull a Joe Stack.
The Better Angels of Our Nature
An occasional reader of mine keeps me tempered. Reminds me to be better, not bitter. H/T to Audre at https://nebraskaenergyobserver.wpcomstaging.com/. (Kerri Russell has a #6 spot because of this video).
Cosmopolitan Magazine Is Barely Recyclable Trash, (That Accidentally Did Something Right)
I don’t believe in airing your dirty laundry or even the great parts of your sex life. I thought it to be stupid and destroying a rule of mine, which is to keep your liaisons hot and private. I have enjoyed mine, being thankful for every dalliance, skillful or not. In between those private times, I would ignore stupid advice I would get in the many free magazines I would get via mail. One of those was Cosmopolitan. I usually threw it in the recycling. One time I read a laughable article about “boob-gasms” or “nipple-gasms”. Years down the road, I tried their tips and it worked. It blew my mind too.
Celine Dion Is A Killer In Disguise
I secretly hope that I get to challenge two stooges from the country music world to a tag team wrestling battle. I think I could trounce them with the right partner. Celine Dion is that partner. She is a strange bird that can sing like it is going out of style. But I think she has bigger stones than most male country music stars. I could see Celine throwing an elbow off the top rope like her fellow countryman; Bret Hart. I would also have Will Smith be the guest referee after the Oscar’s performance he pulled off.
Not To Be Punked Out By Cancer or Car Crashes
If I had to pick a way to go, it would be a military air crash or a gunshot wound. The latter giving me an opportunity to smell the jasmine for the final minutes and enjoy the final silence. I am not fond of the spectre of kicking my can down the road through pharmaceutical means, or getting punked out by a tractor trailer five miles from my house. Both of my options feel more palatable to me, beating statistics.