“… and no one can bother me.”

Posted in Uncategorized on May 3, 2016 by A♠

 

 

 

 

 

An extremely important associate of mine, Soapjackal, asks:

 

 

“What is your online policy [for dealing with others]?”

 

 

My answer:

 

 

1} Say nothing online that you would not say to the person’s face. Now, I’m pretty ballsy, so that gives me some leeway, but I still err on the side of caution.

 

 

2} Keep in mind – the vast majority (~95%) of folks online have absolutely zero desire to sincerely communicate. They want to get attention, vent their spleens or both. Only extremely rare cases have any True desire to exchange ideas. Therefore, unless the individual in question has had civil commentary to date, simply ignore their words.

 

 

3} The stronger the desire one has to reply to a heretofore unknown commenter, the greater the need for silence. The German army used to have a policy of denying the filing of complaints prior to 24 hours after the impetus occurred. This is an excellent method to adopt. 99 times out of 100, within 24 hours one will completely forget the once inflammatory statement.

 

 

4} Never reply out of boredom or anger. If you’re bored – find something more personally productive to do with your time. If you’re angry – scream into a pillow. The internet is forever. The other solutions are not.

 

 

5} In the event you actually respond, maintain your calm, be polite, be civil and be as “boring” as possible. Stick to sheer facts and plain language. In the (highly unlikely) event the person reads your reply with interest and thoughtfulness, then a cogent debate will follow. However, more often than not, they’ll get bored and simply drop the conversation – thus, saving you precious time.

 

 

 

For better or worse, there’s my personal policy.

 

All the best to you and yours,

 

A♠

 

 

 

 

 

“… zero to 60; can it outrun her memory?”

Posted in Uncategorized on May 3, 2016 by A♠

 

 

 

 

 

[It’s crept into my mind often, as of late.

 

This particular memory that’s carved into my brain like a Purple-Heart recipient’s scars.

 

Thus (taking its consistent resurfacing as a sign), I share it with you, dear reader, in the hopes it shall be of some help.]

 

 

 

 

It was well after midnight and I sat four or five houses up-road from her place.

 

I stared purposely through the windshield of my truck.

 

I was going to catch her cheating on me.

 

 

 

See, my gut told me she was being unfaithful.

 

The suspicion writhed, restlessly, deep in my abdomen; twisting and turning like an agitated serpent.

 

My instincts screamed in my head.

 

Sirens to the naivete lashed, like Ulysses, to the mast of my stalwart character.

 

I would heed them – and feed them – all.

 

I was prepared for war.

 

 

 

However, it was then that my strategist’s nature found its way to the surface of my thoughts.

 

Escaping the drowning pool of my vindictive rage, it asked:

 

What goal is to be achieved in this battle?

 

No general deserving of his rank fights for a purpose unworthy of bloodshed.

 

So, Sun Tzu of South Jersey, what exactly is to be gained in this conflict?

 

 

 

I sat dumbstruck.

 

I’d no satisfactory answer to give.

 

Self-righteousness?

 

Smug confirmation of victim-hood?

 

Justified indignation?

 

 

 

Which of those validated my efforts?

 

 

Neither a chest of doubloons nor a suitcase of $20s could buy back the seconds, minutes or (eventually) hours I’d spend attempting to snare her in her duplicitousness.

 

My time was more precious than any fleeting gain I may – or may not – garner by my jealous actions.

 

 

 

Most of all, however, I thought to myself:

 

If I trust her so little…

 

If I am so certain of her faithlessness…

 

If I doubt her honesty so much…

 

Why am I even desirous of her?

 

 

 

Quite frankly, if things have devolved to such a degree that I’m waiting in my vehicle in the middle of the night as if I were on a drug stake-out-

 

I should simply find someone new.

 

Hell, I could throw a rock, at this point, and hit a random woman that I’d trust more than my current paramour.

 

 

 

So I turned the key in the ignition.

 

Put my Rodeo in gear.

 

And drove off into the night.

 

Headed toward the sunrise of a brighter, new day.

 

 

 

 

 

“I just wanna lay here and let myself die…”

Posted in Uncategorized on April 14, 2016 by A♠

 

 

 

 

 

[The working introduction for my upcoming book]

 

 

 

If you’re reading this, then (odds are) you want kill yourself.

 

To which I say:

 

Good for you.

 

It’s about g☼ddamn time.

 

 

 

I mean, cheese n’ fucking rice, how long are you going to be the world’s punching bag?

 

How often are you going to seek approval and validation for every little decision you make?

 

How long are you going to keep working at that loathsome job you hate that offers no prospect of advancement, let alone satisfaction?

 

Not to mention the effort to which you go to please/placate your parents.

 

(You’re way too old for that, by the way.)

 

Seriously.

 

Just end it.

 

 

 

Oh, wait a second.

 

Do you think I mean you should force the cessation of all of your involuntary, bodily, life-support functions?

 

No, no, no.

 

It’s adorable (and laughable) that you’d think you’re getting out of this that easily.

 

But you’re not.

 

See, you’ve decided to throw your life away.

 

And I caught it.

 

So listen up…

 

 

 

 

 

“They think that your early ending was all wrong…”

Posted in Uncategorized on April 14, 2016 by A♠

 

 

 

 

 

It’s been months since I’ve last posted.

 

This blog is, however, very much alive.

 

 

 

I shan’t bore you, kind reader, with details that disinterest you.

 

Or excuses for which you’ve no patience.

 

Thus, I’ll simply announce that I’ve begun work on another book to be released this year.

 

The (working) title is:

 

The Holistic Guide to Suicide

 

A mishmash of sound advice, autobiography and gallows’ humor. 

 

 

 

I plan to renew posting but can’t give a definite start date.

 

Nor can I say when the book will be out.

 

All I can do is ask that you check in, on occasion.

 

 

 

 

 

“… if you’ll hand me my crayons, I’ll be glad to take your name…”

Posted in Uncategorized on February 16, 2016 by A♠

 

 

 

 

One of the commonalities shared by we men in the ‘sphere is this:

 

A penchant for giving others more leeway in the context of errors than ourselves.

 

By which I mean:

 

We are far quicker to forgive others than ourselves.

 

Funny, that, considering many (if not most) are Christian.

 

And Christ said:

 

“Love others as you love yourselves.”

 

Note, He did not say:

 

“Love others more than you love yourselves.”

 

 

 

Women, in their infinite pragmatism, forgive themselves easily.

 

(Often, more than is warranted, in fact.

 

But that’s a tale for another day.)

 

While most men scourge themselves long after such corporal punishment is deserved. 

 

Let alone useful.

 

 

 

All this leads me to advise:

 

Let it go.

 

Give yourself the gift of forgiveness.

 

Understand the man you are now is not at all the man you were then.

 

Realize the fellow that made those mistakes/errors in judgement/faulty decisions was killed.

 

Murdered by his folly.

 

So bury him.

 

Mourn his naïve passing.

 

And move onward.

 

 

 

 

 

“That’s why I cut you just to heal you.”

Posted in Uncategorized on February 16, 2016 by A♠

 

 

 

 

 

Since I’m unemployable, I do odds and ends jobs.

 

Thus, I find myself working manual labor for a military attorney in some extremely rural town in Oklahoma.

 

 

 

He’s a great guy.

 

We get along.

 

And he’s one of the few that doesn’t look at me like a total fuck-up, degenerate (what with my long hair and Motörhead facial topiary).

 

Smart man.

 

That one thing, if nothing else, brings him a windfall.

 

 

 

See, he’s 44 and dating a 20 year old.

 

Thus, it comes to pass that I – an overweight, former (well, mostly former) drunk, writer – sitting in his deceased mother’s recliner, walk him through how to handle her.

 

Don’t let her drag you into drama, I say.

 

Let her sweat your absence.

 

If you doubt whether or not you should respond to a message:

 

Always choose silence. 

 

 

 

I give the aforementioned directions between bites of mass-produced cherry pie and sips of 2% milk.

 

All the while, the 20 year old ingenue that looked at me as though she got whiff of dog shit when she met me—

 

Begs for his attention and binds herself to him with ever stronger ties. 

 

 

 

See, one of the hardest things for “Nice Guys” to understand is this:

 

Healthy women like pain.

 

[DON’T CONFLATE PAIN WITH ABUSE.]

 

It’s a feature; not a bug.

 

If they didn’t, humanity would’ve died out, long ago.

 

[Birthing, being what it is, and kids being pains while breast-feeding, and all.

 

Chalk yet another one up for the Book of Genesis.]

 

 

 

Brother, it’s no coincidence that “cutting” and women’s lib ended up on the same commuter train into town.

 

If you won’t hurt them, someone else else will.

 

And if no-one else will (boyfriend, dad, et al)—

 

They’ll fucking do it themselves.

 

 

 

 

 

“Times have changed and times are strange…”

Posted in Uncategorized on January 1, 2016 by A♠

 

 

 

 

 

I’ve a great deal to say.

 

But, to be perfectly honest, I’m three sheets to the wind. 

 

And have already spent much of my verbosity on @basedmattforney ‘s broadcast.

 

https://t.co/QhyKsyzqKd

 

 

 

Thus, suffice to say for the moment:

 

Thank you, one and all, for reading this past year.

 

For commenting.

 

And, most of all—

 

For letting me know I’ve helped you through this trial we call life.

 

 

 

 

 

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