Kill Your TV, Stupid

Ask yourself how many TV shows you’ve watched this past year. Go ahead and say it aloud. Did you do that? I can’t hear you, because I’m not there. Nor is anyone on the other side of that screen that most people spend hours every day passively staring at.

If you did say it aloud, you’ve passively accepted and obeyed a command from someone you likely will never meet. This is how watching TV works. This behavior, exhibited by over a billion people every day, is one of the many reasons why most people are stupid.

Apparently people do this voluntarily or we wouldn’t have prime-time television. If you choose to partake in this passive sport, that’s your freedom of choice to be among the many who just let life roll on by. I can’t remember the last time I sat down to watch a TV show, or what that TV show was! That’s not to say I’m stupid. We all do and say stupid things, but some of us to a lesser degree than others.

But it’s this passivity of watching TV that’s the problem. A TV is just a box with sound and pictures. It can’t grow beyond that or it wouldn’t be a TV anymore. And because people refuse to accept their passive behavior, realize they’re stupid, then they will never grow beyond the couch.

It’s not just time spent watching TV that’s stupid, either. It’s money, too! No, no, not the money you could be earning if you weren’t watching TV, nor the money that the TV itself cost. I’m talking about subscriptions to services that cost in the hundreds per month. I hear from people they’re spending well over $200 a month on TV alone! That’s enough to feed a family of four for a few weeks, if you stretch it out correctly.

So where’s the math in that? If you can save $200 a month for one year, and feed your family for an extra two weeks per each of those months, then don’t you feel stupid with that large TV bill? How many times do you need to see your favorite football team play, twelve times a year… for ten years. That’s $200 x 12 x 10… that’s $24,000! Bet you didn’t think of that math, no did you? You can buy Superbowl tickets for less than that, and have a once in a lifetime, unforgettable moment seeing LIVE football.

They Sold Us Dreams

They sold us dreams. They sold us dreams so they could get what they wanted, and convinced us to want what they were willing to give.

I’m from a generation that doesn’t want big toys. We don’t want a home in suburbia that looks like the rest. We despise minivans and trophies for showing up. We don’t want to raise a nuclear family on this waste they have left us.

We are human, last time I checked. We prefer not to be castrated for a difference of opinion, one not rooted in bigotry or grown from misguided hatred.

The world that has been built cannot sustain the human spirit. It is built to bind that which creates into submission for a few dreams. We are working to ruin these so-called pillars of strength that have only sought to uphold the Big Dream.

We fear not the failure to achieve our dreams, but that we will not eat, have a place to sleep, and health to live. We decide not to turn to a life of crime, yet the expectation of our dedication to the Big Dream eats away at the energy of this experience we call life.

This is my experience.

I know what it’s like to live a life without work, without income, for fifteen months. It’s not fun eating just oatmeal every day for four months, nor is it healthy. When you have just ten dollars in the bank, and everyone ignores your attempts to find work, your career filtered through some algorithm because a lazy ass employer can’t be bothered to actually read your application and resume… you hate everything.

Thirteen of those fifteen months I spent virtually alone in one room. Writing. Writing my fucking heart and soul out. People responded to it… people I never met, and will never meet. The people I did know didn’t give a fuck. All they wanted was for me to go back to working a miserable job and shut up.

Desperation set in, sure, but my love for writing has never wavered. I am a writer and I believe I have always been. Artwork is fun, but it’s not the most fulfilling for me.

Two and a half years into the job I have now, and I do not feel any closer to my goal of being a full-time writer and author. I’m not even a part time writer. I’ve never had a paying writing gig.

I’m on the fifth draft of my novel, which already has a sequel, and I’m finding it hard to write, for that constant feeling of, even if I do accomplish it, nobody’s going to read it. Like the last four times I’ve tried.

I just want to do what I love without being sick, in poverty, and without a place to sleep. Sure, I’m doing well financially, but at the cost to my time, freedom, and life. The only reason I stay up late is to actually have time to myself. I’m sacrificing my time, for who? It certainly doesn’t seem to be me.

The Electric Car Buzz

martooni-girly-300pxDo you like your buzz and drink your booze like it’s water? I bet you’d love to know that in the not too distant future your drink of choice will experience a price reduction, allowing you to consume more of this American dietary staple. And this comes from an unlikely source: electric cars.

You may ask how an electric car would fuel a surge in the alcoholic beverage industry. It will be done through a systematic reduction in resource usage and an increase in tax breaks, all while tapping into this generation’s never ending love to be environmentally friendly and economically irresponsible.

Once electric vehicles dominate the market, the oil industry will have to scale back gasoline production. Since ethanol is an ingredient in both alcohol and clean burning gasoline, the drastic drop in demand will send prices falling faster than your best friend on St Patty’s Day. Following the laws of supply and demand, ethanol becomes a buyer’s market, one the makers of Coors and Bud Light will no doubt saturate, making it easier for consumers to satisfy their thirst. Feel free to get your buzz on and celebrate the death of the internal combustion engine.

Electric cars are destined to drive themselves, giving brewers every incentive to invest in the technological advancement of artificial intelligence. Not only does artificial intelligence reduce drunk driving accidents, it also reduces the need for intelligence amongst drivers. A bet on a computer to drive three thousand pounds of steel is a good bet for us all.

For the people in this generation who like to call government handouts a means to support society, feel free to know that several tax breaks, incentives, and reduction in expenditures for local law enforcement, are on their way. With lower drunk driving incidents, you’ll see a smaller police force and reduced enrollment of DUI and traffic schools, freeing up funds, likely to pay for rehab.

Whatever will the police do after last call? Maybe they’ll look for real criminals, such as this generation’s sick pedophiles, murderers, and arrest those baby boomers who stole social security to fuel their wild retirements. Remember, don’t trust anyone over fifty.

Lastly, on a sad note, you may lose a friend along the way to advancing society’s plunge into the drowning pool. Sacrifices will be made when your designated drinker remains sober against the new wave of automated alcohol, refusing to binge and purge with the rest of the party. Who needs a sane, coherent friend, anyway? Many of us aren’t there ourselves.

Running on the Sidewalk: Downhill Edition

Running on the Sidewalk: Downhill Edition

  1. Find a high hill within your neighborhood. Dead-ends work best. Make sure there is a sidewalk that goes up high enough you can’t see the houses at the top.
  2. Wear your best sneakers, preferably non-slip running shoes.
  3. Hike up the hill, or hitch a ride with the nearest car to drive by in that general direction.
  4. Study the road below, taking in the curvature near the end at the first crossroad.
  5. Start running.
  6. Jump over every block of concrete that has one of those small, metal rivets. It’s usually every third or fourth.
  7. Keep running.
  8. Push aside anyone walking in your path; you’ve got somewhere to go, and it’s important that you get there before they do.
  9. Keep on running. You’re almost there.
  10. Never mind the hard pounding of your feet. It’s only a natural side-effect of gravity and velocity.
  11. When you reach the cross roads, try to stop abruptly at the corner of the sidewalk. Grab hold of the stop sign if you can. If there is no stop sign, throw yourself on the ground. Remember, stop drop and roll is for more than just fires.

In the event that you fall forward, avoid placing your palms ahead of you. Tuck and roll, firmly pushing your knees to your chest. Studies have shown that those who fall on the sidewalk are ten-times more likely to avoid scars if they assume the fetal position.

Big Picture Show

There was once a time in my life where I cared about society’s problems. I felt a debate was worth it. And I should do my part and voice my opinion. However, through my twenties, I confirmed my suspicion that giving a shit about the big picture is a complete and utter waste of time.

I don’t care about drug use. I don’t care if athletes use steroids and their neck explodes. Not my mess to clean up. Feel free to legalize weed, crack, and meth. Not only will it bring us good entertainment on the morning news, it will let the species sort out the weak minded as they crash and burn harder and faster. If we want a real debate if evolution is real, I say, let’s witness it first-hand.

I don’t care about the privacy debate. If it means they get what they want, people will give information to the highest bidder or lowest cost alternative. Concerning Apple’s stance to refuse decryption of the iPhone of a dead terrorist: I don’t give a fuck. He’s dead. Justice has been served in the proper manner. He fought the law, and the law won. No further answers need to be.

The media and lawyers have convinced people that closure can only be achieved through a thorough understanding of the criminal mind. I don’t give a shit about the mind of a pedophile, a murderer, an arsonist, or anything else. In case you haven’t been tracking the news over the past thirty years, but this sad attempt at solving a bigger problem – preventing crime itself – is a complete waste of time. This attempt to understand, to know more, is worthless. Take a page from the old West: shoot first and ask questions later.

Doing Your Own Thing. Going Your Own Way.

I’ve felt alone most of my life, like a lone wolf. Here are some things I’ve learned about doing your own thing; going your own way.

You have to have confidence with the courage to understand yourself, for better or worse, hopefully for the better. Around the age of twenty-five, I decided to tackle my problems head on. I could have given in to drinking, smoking, drugs, and being a dick. I cared more about myself than hating others.

It required the confidence that I could do it and the courage to see myself as I was. I felt a lot of stress. Much was revealed on what was important to me. There were times I shut the world out because it seemed I was the only one who cared and wanted to make myself better. I couldn’t agree with the advice that said, “Just hide it away. Here, have a beer.”

You learn self-discipline. With nobody giving you guidance, you’ve got to know when and what to do to grow. I learned to draw, I learned to write, and best of all, I learned to understand much of the psychology that makes up human behavior and emotions. These skills and knowledge provided me the opportunity to learn empathy and expression, in a time and culture that’s focused on, “Look at me.”

You learn what’s important to you and what’s no longer important. At times I felt betrayed, others enlightened. You’ll lose harmful morals, ideas, and beliefs, in exchange for making room for what works best for you.

And here’s the toughest part to swallow about going on your own: you learn who is important in your life. I’ve reduced, or disconnected, my contact with some people in my life, because I found they were harming my pursuit of happiness. I’ve had friends who treated me like family, and people I once called friends, who didn’t even say hello once in a while.

Going your own way, doing your own thing, can be both challenging and exciting. However short or long your journey, be it a few days, a few months, or in my case, eight to nine years, there will be things that will surprise and shock you. The best thing you can do is have good friends around. Real friends. People who say hello, call you out, for better or worse, with the intention of telling you they want you in their life.

I hope you’ve learned something by reading this. I write often, and it’s usually quite personal. It takes a lot of confidence to put your thoughts and experiences out for others to read. You subject yourself to judgment, criticism, but hopefully, to getting closer to others. As friends, or lovers, whatever the case may be; they’re both welcoming.

Risk Talking

Introverts lack social tact on what to say and when to say it. That’s a benefit. Introverts gain the advantage over those who can’t stop talking: We surprise and shock others when we do talk.

When I feel it’s time to express myself, sometimes I give it a second thought, but that’s where I draw the line. Then I just do it and live with the fun or consequences. These are the things that make life exciting.

After waiting more than a year, I expressed something to someone because I wanted an answer. It wasn’t gentle and I got that answer, even if it wasn’t what I had hoped to hear. I may have awoken something in her. I may have shaken a monkey off my back: that I have been holding myself back from taking risks.

It’s a challenge for introverts to gauge timing, which is a big part of social tact. Saying something you feel is important, and others feel shocked, can hurt a lot. It often makes you not want to express yourself anymore. You feel misunderstood, not important, and all that depressive crap.

I won’t drag on with all that. What I will do is go into how not having tact is a blessing.

By not having all that social tact, you are actually more free to express yourself than people who adhere to the unwritten, unexplained rules of communication. You’re free because you’re not holding your thoughts and timing to a standard, situation, or method of delivery.

Often people like to ask me why I don’t talk often. I just don’t. It’s not something I practice, so therefore, it’s not something I do. It’s not that I’m not a good communicator: it’s that I don’t inhibit my communication when I do talk.

Then they say, well, that’s not polite to just say what you want. Truth is, it’s more polite to be honest, because honesty builds trust. Even if it hurts. Changing what you say and how you say it is along the same lines as lying. The risk here is that you’re slowly building up walls of dishonesty, waiting to crumble down at a later date.

I’d rather be honest, shocking, and have people resent that, than to be surrounded with fake people who can’t express themselves.

You don’t have to be nice about it. Sometimes, people need to know you’re not feeling happy with something. Enough of this nonsense of everyone hiding their bad feelings so everyone has a good time, and everything is just fucking fine.

I want to love a woman I know. I want to support her and make love to her every day. I want her to be strong and independent, and still be loved by someone. If I didn’t say anything, if I didn’t take the risks, she would still only have a few clues as to how I feel.

So, the other day, I said screw it, and told her exactly how I felt. Yes, it hurt, and yes, it may have caused some friction that perhaps wasn’t there to begin with. Or maybe it gave light to that friction, and made her finally express what she wants and doesn’t want to me. Maybe she needed that.

I’ll never know, unless she’s willing to take those risks with talking with me. In my experience, women don’t do that, cause they’re just as afraid as I’ve been. It’d be a real surprise, and would restore my faith in people if she did.

Does Experience Matter in Dating?

I have limited dating experience: two dates, where both were set up without my knowledge, neither of which turned out well.

I have an anxiety of being with a woman with a bad attitude, who is resentful and handles frustration like a toddler. It’s the reason I don’t want to have children, which in turn makes dating a little more difficult. The difficulty being, most people date to find a mate, to potentially get married and start a family.

It’s been two years since I wanted to start dating and, “what are you waiting for, man up!” and all that shit. Sorry, it’s not easy. Here are the reasons I’ve been hesitant to dating, or if you want to be cynical, excuses.

The Bright Sides

But, before we get into that, I’m going to mix things up: let’s start with the good things! That way, we start off in a better mood.

I’m aging handsomely. I’ve never thought I was ugly, nor has anyone called me as such (except my brother, but w/e). I don’t obsess with how I look, but I know I haven’t always looked this good to me. I also got most of my dental work done, which was causing me real pain for a long, long time. (Ever have abscessed teeth? I did, for four years.)

I’m getting better at judging what works for me and what doesn’t. For one, I like when a woman dresses up nice. A little makeup, a form fitting dress (or a mini skirt/shorts). I’m over the kind of woman you’d take home to mom.

I actually have money to spend on dating. Go figure, I’m sure money is involved somewhere. Though I’d rather use it for starting a business / marketing a product, I can spare some of it for fun and to support this thing that is important to me.

Expected Experience

Ever look for a job, only to see they want someone with five years experience? You just graduated college and want to start your career, but the doors have been shut on you before they were open. Maybe there’s a window you can climb into! You feel you’re up against a wall of impossible requirements.

I feel similar about dating. It’s an irrational fear that a woman doesn’t care for a man’s dating experience. Yet, there’s the factor of subconscious choice: the feeling that something isn’t quite right because it’s not what you’re used to, so you make a decision to change things, or end them as it would be in dating.

I’ve been working since I was 12, and full-time since I was 19. Combined with my insatiable desire to learn and be productive, this has left little time to even socialize amongst friends. Honestly, I wouldn’t even know where to take a girl out. Something simple, like dinner for a night date, coffee/tea for lunch date, or, if it’s a holiday weekend, an event outdoors?
Being able to come up with these ideas probably isn’t difficult, and I’ve been told I’m a great gift giver. (That means I think of and remember details of others.) It’s just, at my age (29), people have expectations.

Immediate Entertainment

I don’t mind being the one to get things rolling. I could ask simple questions, but that gets me stuck in the process of being dishonestly polite. You know, that sort of politeness you have to have with strangers and (if you’re in an office) professionals from prospective clients.
It’s called small talk, and I know how it works. The problem is, I’m not comfortable with it. I’ve always felt small talk to be dishonest because it’s deliberate. It dodges the point of dating by covering things up with boring topics that don’t support the purpose of dating: to find a supportive partner, someone to love, someone to have sex with, whatever your goal is. If the goal of dating was to meet strangers and keep them as strangers then small talk would be the best form of communication.

It seems like a stretch, but I’d rather a woman be like a Bond Girl: straight to the point and doesn’t waste time with what she doesn’t want. Perhaps that’s fantasy and women like that don’t exist, but that sort of honesty makes romantic communication entertaining.
I get bored and find it difficult to further a conversation if there’s nothing to go on except for the weather, if I want children or not, and what my plans are for the future. I want stimulation.

Sexual Experience

I’m no fool when a woman is trying to seduce me. Here’s the problem: only married women have tried. That, and before high school, it was easy for me to get close to a girl. Mind you, I’ve never acted on the married women (nor would I), and nothing happened when I was still a kid.
I recall a few things: first girl I kissed was when I was eight, and I would sneak up to her bedroom and make out for a good long hour. While her dad was home. Before high school, a girl I met just thirty minutes earlier had already invited me up to her bedroom, but her parents came home before the doors were closed. Just as high school was ending, I was went from meeting a girl to making out with her in the back of her car in less than two hours.

I don’t have a problem with intimacy, I just only want sex with someone I’m sexually attracted to. Which begs the question: is it my experience that’s limiting, or the woman I’m interested in?
Yes, I do consider the woman’s sexual expectations. No, I don’t judge her experiences and experiments, unless she’s into bestiality, I can’t do that. That’s just sick.

If she’s had bad experiences, maybe she’s less trusting to have more partners. Maybe she’s disappointed with the lack of understanding. I get that, and that’s one of the reasons I read the occasional romance novel, and non-fiction sexuality books written by women.
I’m not ashamed of my lack of sexual experience. I have nothing to be ashamed of, both experience wise and physically. I won’t brag like some college boy with a GPA of two.


I don’t like unfair judgement by others, specifically when compared to others. With this blog, people take the time to read my thoughts, and carry forth with a more knowledgeable assessment.

I don’t like being judged on the behavior of others. A woman I’m interested in, at least in looks, seems to most guys the kind of woman that’d be “up for anything and everything,” but I know she’s a respectable woman. She wasn’t quick to judge me, but I’m pointing her out as an example: there are guys out there who drop pick up lines and make assumptions of women based on how they look / dress.

This, unfortunately, can cause judgement on me to be pretty rash. A year ago I introduced myself to a different woman, because I knew who she was and she was standing right next to me. She thought I was trying to pick up on her, though I said nothing of the sort that would indicate interest. It illustrates my point that experience has an affect on my ability to show who I am.
I know it can be difficult for people to be open without judgement. I don’t expect people to be open to everyone. I know I’m not.


I’m still looking, hoping, wanting to love, date, and have fun.

5 Reasons We’re a Throw Away Society

The votes are in, and they have been tossed out in lieu of my conclusion of the top five reasons we, especially here in America, are a throw-away society.

#1: Everything is Made in China

Look to Americans to devalue products made from a land abroad. For all we complain of stagnant wages, we’re sure proud that prices are low, as low as the quality of products we didn’t even make.

#2: Plastic is Cheap

Plastic, an amazing invention, feels like the cheapest thing in the world. We make toys out of if, wrap our food in it, and some of us go so far as to infuse our tits with them, just to look a little better than the other chick.

Its immense versatility and infinite life span provides us the sense we don’t have to worry about it losing value. If one had to worry about their possessions, they would care for them, like their car. Thankfully, our cars aren’t entirely made of plastic… yet.

#3: Produce from Mexico, Pills from Canada

It shouldn’t surprise anyone the reason for low priced food and pills: they, too, come from abroad. Once upon a time, there was a farmer in Arkansas. That’s about it for that.

#4: Middle East TurmOIL.

Slipped a pun in there for ya. Speaking of slipping, did you know that Americans only value the oil they have at home? We fight hard to protect it, but not as hard as we fought to ship it in from the other side of the world. Where people live in the mountains, the sand, and houses made of rock, instead of wood.

Then again, it’s over there, not our problem.

#5: Clothes Made by Children

Child labor is an awful thing, so the commercials say. This one I don’t get. When was the last time anyone was proud to wear something made by a child other than their own? Nobody? That’s what I thought.

If we all made our own clothes, we could put an end to the apathy. Then again, most will stick to the good ol’ American way of “Who gives a shit?”

Where I Was, Where I Am

Five years ago, I was different than I am today. I’ve changed on the outside, and on the inside a whole lot more. Most of what I’ve learned I learned on my own, which is a recurring theme in my life.

Five years ago, I felt neurotic. I had a negative view brought on by how I viewed life and how life was talked about from those before me. Today, that type of thinking is like a sneeze: there for a moment, but quickly gone.

Five years ago, I hated working. I felt surrounded by people who didn’t care, didn’t get what I was capable of. Today, regardless of the attitude of others, I am the one that must care for me, and understand what I am capable of.

Five years ago, I wasn’t open about myself. I feared hurtful criticism because of a bully in the home, and the bad attitudes of peers and adults in school. Today, I’m open to people who are happy to hear from me; I’m open to anyone, even strangers. When others just want to be critical, unsupportive, destructive, I ignore their disgruntled ramblings.

Five years ago, I wasn’t creative. I didn’t express myself through writing or illustrating. I didn’t care because nobody else cared. Today, I write, illustrate, bake, and program software to be creative. My wish is to have more experience with being creative socializing, while remaining honest, which works best for me (and can be entertaining to others).

Five years ago, I didn’t want to date. Ten years ago, I didn’t want to date. I didn’t care, because I didn’t believe anyone would be interested in me, and I don’t blame them. Today, I want to experience those things in life that people say is “no big deal,” but means a lot to me. “No big deal” to me says they don’t really care about their relationships. I don’t think that way.

Five years ago, I was emotionally wired like a Griswald Christmas tree. Bad examples and experience taught me to hold things in; to hide them because all people would do is say, “get over it,” like I shouldn’t care about how I felt. Today, I am better. I have improved that part of myself and aligned my thoughts, behavior, and emotions, in a compelling harmony. Emotions do matter in life; I know I am human, and others are, too.

Five years ago, I was different. Today, I’m still different. The only difference is, I’m happy to be different.

Five years ago, I was an introvert and unhappy about most things. Today, I’m happy, even if I’m not fluttering around like a social butterfly.

Five years from now, I will be better.

Five years from now, I’ll have known what it’s like to love someone.

Five years from now, I’ll think about this day, and be proud of myself, for I have truly something to be proud of.