Moving on swiftly, I would love to blame my life off the internet for my inconsistence in blogging but I can’t. I have not been that busy, it’s just that whenever I fired up my word processor to process something, nothing happened! It’s like being constipated; you walk into the bathroom, sit down, (with the toilet seat up or down, however you like it, I am not judging) and wait for things to happen. You start going through the paper, (for those of us who take newspapers with us wherever we go. Again, not judging) you get to the sports section and that’s when it hits you, nothing is happening. That’s how last week was like for me. No, not the constipation part, eish!

It was a wacky week but I did have an interesting encounter with a friend. He was curious, probably still is since I didn’t quench his curious glands. He wanted to know how I do it, his words not mine. “How do you do it?” To me, that is like a trick question. You have to be precise with what you’re asking, how do I do what? I’m sure you know where I’m going with this, y’all are smart. He, however noticed my facial expression and sensed what I was about to say. He augmented his question, “how do you do it, the writing I mean? How do you come up with all that stuff?” That is not exactly what he said, he may have ended that question with a word when loosely translated could mean ‘cow droppings’! I have nasty friends.

Just in case you’re thinking of asking such a question, don’t. I don’t have the answer, by the time you get to that last part, “…how do you come up with all that cow droppings stuff?” I will have breezed off to a place where unicorns exist and poking fun at each other, you know with the horn thing. *sigh* that unicorn joke would have been funnier if I didn’t have to explain it. Seriously though, I can’t answer that… Where would I even begin? Most of my ideas come to me when I’m taking a shower or when peeing or both at the same time. Wait, I think I have just explained how I do it (the writing that is), I mean there I was taking a shower and/or peeing when this great idea struck that I should tell you what I do while taking a shower and/or peeing. Wait, what?

Hold up, who else thinks that this article now sounds like something the neighborhood drunkard would scream when he’s immensely inebriated? My hand is up. Frankly, I didn’t have the middle part of this post figured out, so to fill it up I’m gonna tell you how I do it. (The writing that is, I want to be clear on that)

I’m a decently funny guy, right? I make you smile every once in a blue moon, yes? Like on a scale of 0 to 10 I’m a strong 0.5, yeah? If there was a writing contest I would probably be ranked with a negative digit, yes? Ok, so here is how I do it: (the writing that is) despite what you may have heard (especially if you heard it from me), I don’t do pot, yes really. I don’t! LOL, the only way I can say that with a straight face is because there are no faces here and it just so happens that I’m writing, not talking.

I may not explain how exactly I do it but I can tell you what I’m trying to do. I’m trying to adjust my style so that one day I’ll be in a position to use the word ‘digress’ in one of my posts. For some unclear reason, I just can’t twist anything I write to accommodate that word anywhere and maybe it is for the best; I see that word in almost every blog I visit. It’s like the call girl of blogs. What’s up with that? Did I miss a memo?

Oh and my douche of a friend, he really wanted to know how I do it, so much so that I thought he was talking about something else other than my writing habits. My answer was, “three men walk into a bar and from then on, what they do is none of our business and so is how I do it, (the writing that is) it’s none of your business…” That doesn’t come off as rude, does it?

PS: If you figure out the point of the words above before I do, please let me know…

As you are reading this, you should know that I already have my sight set on you, so this is not some mindless rumbling about a futuristic probably non-existent character. You exist unlike my current girlfriend who happens to be imaginary; actually I have two of those, you know, an extra for when the other one is having one of “those days”. Yes my imaginary better halves have those days, just to make it feel a little authentic.

To get things going, you need to lose that loser boyfriend you have by your side. I mean, what do you see in him? He’s ummm, well a loser, I lack the exact words. Plus there’re allegations that he’s seeing someone else. The source is not vouch-able but you know what they say, actually I don’t have an idiom/proverb/saying to place here so we’ll just go with he’s a loser.

You’ll excuse the lack of romance in this letter, it’s not that I’m unromantic, but because I’d like to keep my lines confidential for future use. You’ve got to be realistic with these things. If our love (or a mere arrangement) ends a lot sooner that I expect, I may need the lines that worked on you to woo another. So let’s leave the gooey stuff for when we meet.

Are you still reading love? I have a feeling that last line may have marred my chances with you, do not walk away just yet, you are not perfect yourself. Your imperfection shows with the kind of joke you have for a boyfriend. Wait, now that I think about it, I don’t know what to think of myself when you eventually fall for me. If your current better half is anything to go by, you have a terrible taste in men. Oh, boy, I don’t know if I want you anymore! Crap, here I go again with sabotaging my relationships.

Please ignore that last paragraph; I have no idea why I had to go there. What you need to know about me is that I’m the arguing-pee-in-the-shower-leave-the-toilet-seat-as-I-please type, in other words I’m an average guy. I won’t promise diamonds then deliver broken glasses; I like to keep it real. I’m quite the listener, really I am. I just happen to not understand most of what is said, so if you’re the talking type, you better keep it at a comfortable minimum. Another thing, I’m not the cuddling type, I don’t get it, really I don’t. Let’s hover over the cuddle idea for a minute; we sit there in each others arms doing what exactly? Getting to know each others odors a little better? Come on, I have places to be, things to do, people to meet, money to make… Life is too short to lie around doing nothing!

I don’t expect you to bring me breakfast in bed, so don’t expect me to do it either, this is probably because I’m yet to figure out how grocery turns into food and what to use when doing that. I can’t even say I’m a terrible cook, ‘cause a terrible cook can at least cook something, me on the other hand, can’t cook anything!

I know I know, I no longer sound like boyfriend material but if I don’t date you, who will? I mean with the right woman beside me I can change. Look at the ‘bright side’, you’ll brag to your friends how you changed a man, show them skeptics who think that a man can’t be changed, heck you could even write a book about it.

PS: I don’t mean to brag but most of my ex-girlfriends got depressed after we broke, either I’m that good or I’m that good…!

“It was love at first sight…” Really? Do people actually see someone and feel love flow in their romantic veins? I never experience such frivolities with the girls I meet. That is probably because when I meet a girl, (hot or otherwise) I’m too busy trying to find out if she has a penis like the last one or maybe because I go for those with low self esteem. The kind when you approach them, they think you’re talking to the person behind them. When they realize they are on the receiving end of a seemingly romantic conversation they almost strip dance for you.

With me it’s boobs at first sight. I mean they are just there, what am I supposed to do when they are fighting for eye contact. It’s very rude to look the other way when boobs are looking right at you. Be courteous and return the favor. I find it very hard to go for the heart when boobs are blocking my path, you know, they’re like, “if you have to break this girls heart, you’ll have to go through me first!” Well, challenge accepted.

I think the reason I haven’t found love is because of what lies ahead. The love highway is full of bandits or what you would call unplanned knock ups, unwanted brats, marriage, matrimonial trouble, divorce and finally alimony. My subconscious in its auto pilot nature has been avoiding the love route and for that I’m grateful. I mean who wants to pay alimony? And what the hell is this alimony business? Isn’t that like paying a hooker you are not sleeping with? We’re no longer together; go find another host to suck on. Some women can be such pests! I don’t know about men and alimony but if you happen to cash a check every month from a woman, you need to fish your vagina from your purse. What’s wrong with you?

Way I see it, the phrase “it was love at first sight” means different things to different people. To some people (like me) it’s the boobs. I looked at the boobs and I loved them. I mean breasts don’t have character, motives or morals for me to decipher. I don’t need time to figure out what they are like unlike the lady who hosts them. You just look at them and either want to touch them or salute them from a mile off. Unlike the woman in which they reside in, they are not after my house, money, my favorite seat, the TV remote, my family, my car… No, they’re just there to be fondled. That’s why I’m for one night stands as opposed to commitment; I meet the boobs and their cousin from down under and that’s that.

The reason I’m not in a relationship is because I loathe the way most women use their boobs to get stuff from me. They show so much cleavage that it can no longer be called a cleavage; it’s just the boobs without nipples. The last girlfriend I had revealed so much cleavage that she could ask for anything and get it, “hey can I have your credit card, on second thought can I have your wallet?” “Yea, sure anything you want.”

And of men who say “it was love at first sight”, do you know how gay that sounds? I can’t say we would remain friends after such utterances. Don’t get me wrong though, I have nothing against gay people. If someone wants to mess with their sphincter muscles it’s their business. In fact the world should encourage gay people to walk out of their closets as early possible. I would tell you to love them but they might get mixed signals and decide to love you back and that might not end well especially on your end. Speaking of closets, a guy I know was in a closet for so long, he tried every costume in there so when he eventually came out he looked like a clown. His fashion sense is so advanced that he does not need a costume to attend a costume party!

I, however, am not dismissing this love thing. Who knows, maybe I have not met the one. There’s someone for everyone, right? For instance I could tell my ex wasn’t the one when she started seeing someone else or maybe I got it wrong, maybe she was meant for the both of us and I was not supposed to find out!

Unrelated: Have you ever been so high that you called your ex to tell her that you slept with her sister and her mother? No? Me neither, I swear!

See, my becoming a magician would have been a bad idea.

I thought I could be a lot of things, heck I thought I could be a pilot up until I realized the only math I was good at was calculating my girlfriend’s safe days and I can’t say that I was always accurate, sometimes I’d be off by a week and I know that because whenever I asked for some, she’d say “no” more often than she said “maybe” and a lot more often than she said “yes”. Wait, now that I think about it, she could have been saying no because she could, shit!

I’m not a pilot because 1) I sucked at mathematics and 2) when I got to the age of reason, I thought that the name cockpit was amazingly gay. I think if you said “cockpit” enough times, like say a hundred, you could turn gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

At a very lonely point in my life, I thought I could be a Priest. I was thinking of all the flings I would have with the nuns in a parish, but then I remembered that I have shitty luck with women. In fact my luck with women is so bad that I think the only way I’m gonna get laid is if they introduce sex flavored candy! Yes, I knew by now you would be wondering what the outrageous title had to do with this post.

A while ago I thought that gynecology was the coolest career out there for a dude like me but after doing some research, vaginal infections are not the most beautiful things to occupy a woman’s body. If my (Google search powered) research is anything to go by, it’s an ugly sight down there. Some of the things I discovered are so bad you would think a patient was a victim of a vampire with a vagina fetish. I don’t think I’m perverted enough to be a gynecologist or any other doctor for that matter.

Since I’m still growing up, I’m keeping my options open. I’m at an age where people tell you that you’re still young, you can do anything, you can do anyone… So I have a lot friendly choices out there but what the hell does “you can do anything” mean? The last time I checked, I couldn’t urinate while sneezing, still can’t. But that’s the thing with people, always saying the most ridiculous of things. You get arrested for drug possession and what do your friends tell you? “it’s gonna be fine…” Not so much, the cops will have your ass for dinner. You better pray some of them ain’t gay or they will literally eat your ass! A relative dies and what do your friends say? “He’s in a better place…” Hmmm I don’t know he was more of a hell material than heavenly bliss so we can’t exactly say he’s in a better place.

Where was I? Oh, keeping my options open… I can be anything I want, I can go back to school and get a law degree then go on to become a bad ass judge with a Kick Ass TV show. Wouldn’t that be something?

COURT CLERK: All rise, Judge Mad Blogger resides. In Today’s show the Hon. Judge tackles a case where the Plaintiff, Mrs. Doucheshire accuses her Husband Mr. Doucheshire of wrongful tackle from behind. The Plaintiff claims the Defendant used her back door when the front door was wide open (maybe a little too wide) and when she confronted him he said he thought he was in the right hallway. Mrs. Doucheshire claims that her husband may have damaged the back door and if the clear violation of paths is not stopped the back door may be rendered useless even for exit purposes. Mr. Doucheshire pleaded guilty.

JUDGE: Then what the hell are we doing here? Lock him up; 2 months in Prison will give him a taste of his own medicine.

Ok, maybe I would make a terrible Judge but it’s not like I would be different from the rest…

I don’t think I’ll be realizing what I’m supposed to be any time soon since in my case, it’s if I grow up and not when I grow up.

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PS: In totally unrelated innuendos, have you ever heard of a case where a prostitute’s body rejected an organ after a transplant, like say a kidney? No? Me neither. I guess they’re used to hosting different organs in them that the body eventually becomes a universal recipient. Don’t ask me how I come up with this shit!

Have you ever been in a relationship so long that when you meet you don’t know if you should hug or just shake hands? Have you ever been in a relationship so bad that you can longer trust the girlfriend with your junk? She hasn’t quite said no to your “blow me” advances but you just can’t suggest it anymore. She has that “I’ll bite it off” face! She scares you, she starts to look like a secret government agent, she prepares your dinner but you can’t taste it before she tastes the food on her plate because you think it’s laced with cyanide! Have you ever been in such a relationship where you are too scared to break up? You just don’t want to send her packing because you don’t know what she might do; maybe she’ll come back and actually bite it off! Have you ever wondered what you’re still doing in the relationship? Maybe all is well, you could be thinking too much or maybe you’re not thinking at all… Maybe there are hallucinogens in the water!

Have you ever thought that the leading cause of Alzheimer’s in men is Marriage? Think about it, once you get married you just can’t remember where you place things. You’re always looking for something:

“Honey, have you seen my green sweater?”

“Honey, where is my tie?”

“Honey, where are my socks?”

“Honey, where are my car keys?”

“Honey, where is the G-Spot?” Hey, sometimes you gotta ask!

You just can’t find shit, it’s crazy. I think it’s women’s long term plan to rule the world. I think there is something in the marriage certificate, maybe it’s laced with mind altering substances and judging from where I come from, it’s a valid theory. Most wedding gowns come with gloves and right after the couple signs the certificate the bride places it in the groom’s coat pocket, of course she has the gloves so she is not in direct contact with whatever shit on it that causes Alzheimer’s… Ok, maybe I’m thinking too much or not thinking at all or maybe there is something in the water…

Do you ever get that eerie feeling that someone is watching you? Do you avoid using the ATM because, well, someone is watching you? Do you get a much creepier feeling when you’re in queue, like in a bank, and there is this really hot chic right in front of you? You wanna look but you can’t because you think everyone is looking at you to see if you’ll look at her ass! You start to look at everything and everyone except for this one girl. You get so uncomfortable up to a point where people actually start looking at you, you get so uncomfortable that when you get to the teller you don’t know if you wanted to withdrawal or deposit or complain (it’s most likely a complaint).

Do you ever pass a group of people at some corner and you know for certain that they are looking at your backside. Does it get so uncomfortable that you start walking funny or at least you feel like you’re walking funny? The legs feel weak, your ass feels like it’s shaking a little more than it usually does, your knees collide, you stumble on non-existent stones on the ground, you damn near fall, shit!

Does shit ever get this real for you or it’s just me? I must be one paranoid bastard or maybe there really is something in the water…