Swipe left:

• if you’re into average dudes
• if you’ll put me behind your kids, pets, parents, a televised game, any/all of the above

Swipe right:

• if you want to awaken the tsunami between your legs
• if you’re truly looking for adventure

Seriously, only beautiful women looking to escape the mediocrity need apply. I’ve met a lot of women. Any who’ll throw out the blanket statement and put ALL men behind her kids, pets, parents, or a fucking sporting event has clearly never had great sex.

Ask how I know.

And yes, I know those of you who HAVE had great sex. And you’re not putting your man behind your kids, pets, parents, or a fucking sporting event. You’re bringing him a Sonic slushie as a surprise to work. Or showing up at his door wearing nothing but a trenchcoat.

You, are truly looking for adventure, and looking to release that tsunami. And you, are welcome in my life. Swipe right.

I’ve read women have 206 bones in their body. Wouldn’t you like one more?

Stumbled upon this li’l gem this morning:

My bad if I’ve ever left any of y’all on read... I didn’t mean to open the message.

Seriously though, does anyone else go through phases like this?

I do NOT envy those who have to respond to any/everything on their phone in a timely fashion. That is not a life I’d design.

On a similar note, today marks fourteen days off of all social media. Since I really don’t miss the Facebook anymore after so long (784 days today), and since I’ve been super annoyed by the obligation to keep a snap streak of dark rooms and computer keyboards going... with little to no acknowledgement of any commentary added to snaps from my end... well, it was time.

So, I just turned off notifications. Let them collect.

Shout out to those of you who reached out to make sure I’m alive: Julisa cornered me in person, Amy texted after a few days. Even my iPhone noticed—apparently my screentime is down to an hour and fifteen minutes a day average. That includes my daily crossword puzzle. And texting.

I don’t really miss any of it. No Facebook. No Instagram. No Snapchat. Life is good. Let’s see where we go next.

When I was in middle school, I read this fascinating book that introduced me to the magic of the scary story.

The kind you tell in the dark. Or around a campfire.

As I recall, there were two or three of these collections of short horror stories. Yet, I’ve never been able to remember enough of any of these stories to Google any of them. Which almost makes sense, as the books predate the “information age.”

More on that later.

Anyway, yesterday I remembered something. There was this story.

Boy meets girl. Boy falls in love with girl. Girl is always wearing the same scarf… and refuses to take it off.

And I’ll stop there. That was enough to Google. And now the book is waiting patiently for me to place my next Amazon order.

I was afraid that memory was lost forever. Like. That. Other. Book.

Certainly, I can’t be the only one that remembers songs, stories, &c. from my past in dreams… can I?

Everyone has a gift. A superpower, if you will.

Mine?

Well, it’s not my ability to peel an orange in a single piece of rind.

It’s not my ability to identify a piece of music, or a movie, no matter how obscure, with a random snippet. Which is utterly worthless, except as a party trick.

It’s not even my ability to tell the time—without looking. Nor my gift for attracting traffic to intersections/red lights.

There is nothing I do better, than hide things.

From myself.

Indeed. This. Is my superpower.

How frustrating.

Another year has passed. And I am still reading. Perhaps not as much as I was, but quite a bit.

There are times it feels like I do nothing but read. Others I crave something that’ll challenge my mind.

Am I wasting my time? Possibly.

One thing I learn from journaling/blogging is that in spite of whatever honorable intentions I may have, change is hard.

Why should I ever want to be uncomfortable? I have my heating pad and my chocolate pudding and my crushed Oreos and my gummi worms and...

Everything I could ever... want. Right?

If I really “wanted” something, why is it nearly impossible to convince myself to take any steps to go get it?

So, I read. About others. And I’ll read more.

I digress. Here is the 2020 list—for posterity:

1. Meditations - Marcus Aurelius
2. You Are a Badass - Jen Sincero
3. On the Road - Jack Kerouac
4. The Art of Seduction - Robert Greene
5. The Consolation of Philosophy - Anicius Boethius
6. Wanderer - Sterling Hayden
7. Antifragile - Nassim Nicholas Taleb
8. The Alabaster Girl - Zan Perrion
9. Prohibition in Kansas - Robert Smith Bader
10. Wizard’s First Rule - Terry Goodkind
11. Up in the Air - Walter Kirn
12. The Dying Animal - Philip Roth
13. The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde
14. The Little Prince - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
15. Stealing Fire - Jamie Wheal & Steven Kotler
16. Influence - Robert B. Cialdini
17. The Lonesome Gods - Louis L’Amour
18. Thinner - Stephen King
19. Games People Play - Eric Berne
20. Tropic of Cancer - Henry Miller
21. Vagabonding - Rolf Potts
22. Resisting Happiness - Matthew Kelly

I was so saddened to hear of your passing, yet I am thrilled we shared what moments we did in this crazy life.

I love you and I’ll always remember you fondly. Goodnight.