dilletantism, romanticism, charlatanism
Blue-eyed girls have no soul. Actually, anyone with blue eyes. All soulless creatures.
Remember, you heard it here first.
Strange Embrace
Why?
It’s been nearly three years since we last spoke. The missed opportunity that broke me. I never want to miss another chance like the one we had.
So, why does my heart race when I see you?
What is it about you? What is this effect you have over me?
Why do you still dazzle me?
No lie, I still want you. I tell myself I don’t need you—and maybe I don’t—but why does my heart race?
The Flame
Ages ago, I was lamenting about some shortfalls of the internet at that point in time (2007).
Well, my friends, the internet has evolved. Risen to the challenge.
I now have the trombone WAH WAH WAH sound to set as a ringtone when “adults” call—the “voice” of Charlie Brown’s teacher.
And also, the soundbite from when Samantha twitched her nose on Bewitched. Works great for a text notification.
The resource for the sound clips above also provided me with a long-sought-after quality ringtone of the bionics sound.
I was a bit astonished to discover Huey’s date—whom he found himself stranded on a desert island in the “Stuck With You” video—to be the wife of Pierce Brosnan. Not at the time the video was shot, but eventually. Small world, indeed.
In fact, there is a blog written by a published author where he seeks out many of the “Who’s that girl?” from the decade of excess’s most memorable music videos.
For example, did you know the stunning blue-eyed girl the Boss pulls onto the stage in the “Dancing in the Dark” video went on to star in a quasi-popular sitcom in the 90s?
The more you know! I am still waiting on the internet’s ability to deliver smell, however.
Society needs to stop with this acceptance trend. It seems everywhere I look, people are increasingly unhappy, unhealthy and unsatisfied.
And it’s not because I think you’re fat. Or ugly.
It’s because you’ve given up. Why have you given up?
Why should I feel ashamed because I am attracted to that petite girl with the little waist, luscious ass, perky tits… AND a bubbly personality?
Why shouldn’t she accentuate her beautiful eyes with eyeliner and mascara. Or make her kissable lips even more irresistible with red lipstick?
And why should you hate that “skinny bitch” because you couldn’t be bothered to wash your hair, put on a bra, or pluck that stray hair before you wobbled out to get another Big Mac with a Dr Pepper and milkshake?
Yet now we get offended because the opposite (or same, I suppose) sex doesn’t find us attractive? It’s called bullying. It’s called fat-shaming.
No, you need to take care of yourself.
No, you don’t need to do it for me. Pride maybe considered a “deadly sin,” yet a little can go a long way. If you like the way that “skinny bitch” looks, she’d probably love to share what she did with her hair, what make up she prefers, where she got that sun dress.
And if that sun dress looks terrible on you? Well, gym memberships are very reasonable these days. Plus there’s the outdoors for walking. There’s push ups and sit ups that can be done with no extra requirements. Then, there is always CrossFit.
It also doesn’t hurt to consider that just because the food industry has ensured we can have volumes of sugar. at. each. meal. doesn’t mean we have to.
The worst thing to come from the cola wars of the 1980s is that soda is more readily available than water. A couple of generations ago, a cola was considered a treat—to be enjoyed once a week, or maybe even once a month.
Your body is telling you it’s not quenching your thirst, yet you need those sugary bubbles, so maybe another can of Mountain Dew will hit the spot. Or another 12-pack. Why make diabetes trendy?
And what about fitness?
Once upon a time there was an assessment in grade school called the Presidential Fitness Challenge, or something similar. Whatever happened to it?
I’m not going to lie. I was a fat kid. And unflexible. I did terrible at half to two-thirds of the assessments.
Yet, compared to kids on the street today, I was a young Adonis. I can’t imagine many of these kids doing a single sit up—much less thirty in a minute.
Say what you will about bullying and fat-shaming, pressure from our peers—both good and bad—can influence better decisions. It is a shame most don’t take insults as a hint they could do better.
I didn’t like it either. Again, no lie.
Yet, now I’m in the best shape of my life. And I’ll reserve the right as a former fat ass to call you fat.
And I have no guilt in being attracted to dazzling young lady who is rocking that bikini with her tan and her tight body.
You’re not okay. You’re miserable. And you don’t have to be. You can fix it.
Crush
Was it the Facebook that started the “Today’s memories trend?” Or did they steal it from TimeHop?
Anyway, today I learned (really?) that I don’t really learn anything.
A while back, I was curious, so I put an “On this day” function on this blog. And today, June 1, I noticed that every. single. post. demonstrates what a jack ass I am. And I apparently never learn.
At what point do I accept that I am the character in the story that blindly bumbles through life doing the same things and never learning, evolving, or going anywhere?
Or is there a way to make life lessons truly stick? Without maiming myself in the process?
If anything, it’s apparent that my avoidance of confrontation leads to my continually being taken advantage of. Like I’m a perpetual “nice guy.”
Does it really matter if someone doesn’t like me? Most people don’t really know me. And, for once in my life, I’m willing to walk away from… everyone.
So, why not call him/her out on her bullshit. Take back my power. Walk away.
Why not? Anecdotal evidence shows that while I’ll write about what I should do, post-brain dump me will simply continue bumbling blindly through life—doing the same things and never learning.
Can someone really start over?
Don’t Talk to Strangers