Rules for Men

Choosing sides

Ten pounds ago I was a slovenly mess. Today, I'm a svelte man of action. At least, that's how I feel. And isn't that pretty much worth everything? Because if I feel amazing, then I must be amazing. Because why would my brain deceive me? It wouldn't. And that's why I wake up early every morning and go to the gym. I'm sucking up to my brain. And now I don't think there's anything I wouldn't do to get my brain to be on my team all the time.

Look at Mr. T. The guy's shtick is all about being a bad ass. But look closely... he's gotta be in his 60's, right? And yet when Mr. T talks, you better fucking listen. It's all about attitude. Senior citizen or not, Mr. T (and his brain) have convinced the world (and more importantly himself) that he is a bad ass tough guy. Have you ever seen Mr. T actually do anything bad, or tough? Nope. It's all talk. And attitude. Attitude is everything. Attitude wins friends and gets you laid. Get your brain on your team and you'll see what I mean. 

Mysteries and Weather

The snow clung to the trees this morning and it was beautiful. If I wasn't driving into DC on a busy highway I would have taken a picture. So I guess this memory is all mine. Funny how that seems like such a strange concept nowadays... Having a beautiful/exciting/amazing moment and then not posting it to some social network for all to see, thereby distilling it and robbing it of its significance. There are some indigenous peoples of this land that believe(d) that a photograph stole the soul from the person being photographed. There's something to be said of that concept, at least metaphorically.  Things have gotten out of hand, methinks. I miss the days when we were all still mysterious to each other.  

Every Day

by Thomas A. Clark

Awake the mind's hopeless so
At a quarter to six I rise
And run 2 or 3 miles in
The pristine air of a dark
And windy winter morning
With a light rain falling
And no sound but the pad
Of my sneakers on the asphalt
And the calls of the owls in
The cypress trees on Mesa Road

And when I get back you're
Still asleep under the warm covers
Because love is here to stay
It's another day and we're both still alive

Welcome

It's the first day of Spring, y'all. Let's go swimmin.'

Plot Thickener

I found two dead squirrels lying side by side while walking Leia. Thinking they had some how fallen from some great height I looked up. Nothing.

Mystery unsolved, I walked on.

The art of realizing you don't know what happened and then leaving it the fuck alone. I'd like to teach that to the world.

Save Me.

It finally happened. The power here at the hospital flickered and everyone's computers shut off.  Then - a cacophony of groans from people who obviously don't live by Uncle Jason's first rule of office life: Save early and often. The higher-ups scurried from their cozy offices surrounding the perimeter of our cubicles choking on their pasta salads and four-hour old pinkish-colored Starbucks drink. (I guess if I had my own office I wouldn't eat food among the dregs of the office either.) Boy, there's nothing like a little loss of whatever the heck you were working on to get fellow office workers in a state of over-dramatic, spastic derping. These are the same people who approached everyone they saw this morning and notified them that there's a new Pope like they're the source of ALL NEWS.

Anyway, I just lean back and smile, because some people love to watch the world burn.

Wreck It

Fantasies die. You get old and realize all those plans for group sex and cross-country road trips fade into the harsh realities of mortgages and elastic waist bands. Bodies get softer and our lovers become mothers who trade in silky negligees for a durable rag that can soak up the milky vomit of babies.

I was watching The Brady Bunch yesterday with James (he seems to enjoy it) and I realized that none of the kids ever talked about their real mother/father. We're told in the opening song that Mike had three boys of his own when he met Carol who had three lovely ladies with hair of gold, etc. So what happened to Mike Brady's baby momma? Maybe she died in a fiery car accident on her way home from having sex with Mike's boss down at the architectural firm. The affair not discovered until after the accident, because she hadn't yet disposed of the condom which was found in the car next to her lifeless body.

And Carol's former husband, the astronaut, was caught diddling some young, scientist down at the space camp when Carol decided to surprise him with fresh baked muffins down at the office. When she walked into her husbands office, there he was doing things with the pretty scientist that Carol would have never allowed him to do. And it was Carol's subsequent nervous breakdown that led to the decision to have a live-in maid in her new home. The doctors recommended it.

All you have to do is look deep into the eyes of Mr. Brady as he lays there reading a book in bed, sporting those starchy pajamas, doing his damnedest to appease Mrs. Brady with inane small talk, and you'll see the pain set deep into his soul.

Egg Sandwiches

If I hurry back from the gym in the morning and hurry through my shower and decide not to shave and wait until I get to work to shit and, I have just enough time to make an egg sandwich for breakfast. Logistics.

Morning Wood

Second day early morning gym going.

Waking up stops hurting after two minutes during the half-awake urination through erection maneuverings.

Then, then, then, all is fine. Still dark. And cold. But - fine. Of course this morning there was rain, too, but whatever.

Then comes the hurried shower before leaving for work and the sweat that keeps sweating after the shower. This all happens while the world sleeps and your husbands groggy boners haven't stiffened up yet.

Reactions/Fornications

Life is...

Plugging your iPhone in before bed and waking up to discover that your iPhone didn't charge for some reason. No. Life is... dealing with the discovery of a non-charged iPhone even though it was plugged in all night.

No.

Life is... insertion + expectations. And the (dis)harmony between the two.

Increased force is good.

Our shower's water pressure suddenly became two times stronger over the weekend and I'm afraid to question it for fear that it'll go away. You know, some things are best left unspoken and cherished. Like love. Or a perfect sauce. I'm surprised I'm even writing about it here now. I should stop.

New Monday

Okay. The time changed and now I'm getting my shit together. I've got two good months before two weddings where I'm the Best Man. This extra weight I've accumulated has got to go.

I woke up this morning and went to the gym. It was dark and cold, but I don't care. Strangely, I managed to get to work earlier than usual. Even as I type this the Sun is just barely rising over DC from my view in Southeast DC.

Tidbit

Nothing throws me into a rage faster than hearing someone eat potato chips. At work. At 9:20 a.m.

I'm exaggerating. Snack away, mysterious eater. A man can't help the way his chips are crunching. And no one can blame the indulgence.