The bad thing about television

The bad thing about television is that everybody you see on television is doing something better than what you're doing. Did you ever see anybody on TV like just sliding off the front of the sofa with potato chip crumbs on their face? Some people have a little too much fun on television: the soda commercial people - where do they summon this enthusiasm?

Have you seen them?

-"We have soda, we have soda, we have soda", jumping, laughing, flying through the air - it's a can of soda for goodness sake. Why all that? LoL

Have you ever been standing there and you're watching TV and you're drinking the exact same product that they're advertising right there on TV, and it's like, you know, they're spiking volleyballs, jet skiing, girls in bikinis and I'm standing there - "Maybe I'm putting too much ice in mine."

At the movie theater.

What's with the age gap hiring policy at most movie theaters?

Did you ever notice, they never hire anyone between the ages of fifteen... and eighty, you know what I mean?

Like, the girl that sells you the ticket, she's ten. Then there's the guy who rips the ticket, he's a hundred and two. So, what happened in the middle, there? You couldn't find anybody? It's like they want to show you how life comes full circle. You're fifteen you sell the tickets. Then you leave,

you go out,
you have a family,
kids,
marriage,
career,
grandchildren,
eighty years later,
and you're back in the same theater three feet away. Ripping tickets.

Took you eighty years to move three feet...?

The finger.....

…so here I am driving from a very boring day at work to my lovely home. I am in the right side line of the freeway. Going no more than 65 MPH. Somehow I decide to move into the center lane, now I get ahead of this woman, who felt for some reason I guess, that she thought that I cut her off. So, she pulls up along side of me, gives me... "the finger".

It seems like such an... arbitrary, ridiculous thing to just pick a finger and you show it to the person. It's a finger, what does it mean? Someone shows me one of their fingers and I'm supposed to feel bad.

Is that the way it's supposed to work? I mean, you could just give someone the toe, really, couldn't you? I would feel worse if I got the toe, than if I got the finger. 'Cause it's not easy to give someone the toe, you've got to get the shoe off, the sock of and drive, get it up and uh look at that toe, buddy. I mean, that's really insulting to get the toe, isn't it ?

Love, love, love sports

I love to go to sports events. Love, love, love sports. Anybody running around in an outfit with a stripe on it, I want to watch them do it.

Take boxing, the simplest, stupidest sport of all. It's almost as if these two guys are just desperate to compete with each other, but they couldn't think of a sport. So they said, "Why don't we just pound each other for forty-five minutes? Maybe someone will come watch that."

It's strange, two guys in shorts competing for a belt. They should award them slacks or a shirt.

The real problem it that you have two guys fighting who have no prior argument. They should have the boxers come into the ring in little cars, drive around a little bit, eventually there's an accident. They get out...

"Didn't you see my signal?"
"Look at that fender!"

Then you'd see a real fight!

The way women and men approach clothes in a store

Women approach clothes from a different angle altogether. The other day I was watching women in a department store looking at clothes, and I noticed women don't try on the clothes, they get behind the clothes. They take a dress off the rack and they hold it up against themselves. They can tell something from this. They stick one leg way out and kind of lean back. I guess they need to know, "If someday I'm one-legged at a forty-five-degree angle, what am I going to wear?"

You never see a man do that. You never see a guy take a suit off the rack, put his head behind the collar, and go, "What do you think about this suit? I think I'll get it. Put some shoes by the bottom of the pants, I want to make sure. Now what if I'm walking? Move the shoes, move the shoes, move the shoes."

Hahahahaaa..

Do we really believe in our self…?

There are times when we believe in everything and everybody but ourselves. There is a constant search for gurus and role models when they exist within us. The most brutal beating that we take is the one that we inflict upon ourselves. We make one mistake and we count ourselves out before the referee can blow the whistle.

We beat ourselves down into a state of depression. Depression is a dark and dreary place where we drink tears for breakfast, lunch and dinner. We tend to use our carnal mind, eyes and ears that are distorted during this dark time.

Have you ever cried all night long? Dry your eyes at midnight if you really have to cry. Place a smile on your face and embrace joy. Cheer up, it's morning time, joy has arrived!

Is self doubt is still hanging around harassing you? If so, get rid of it. I hear you saying, "I have made so many mistakes." This is a familiar phrase that has been spoken so faithfully by many people. But, you are not alone. We've all made many mistakes but . . . the more mistakes you make . . .the more self-doubt and less confidence you will have in yourself.

Imagine yourself as a confident person free from self-doubt. Hold this image everyday until it sinks into your spirit. Whenever negative thoughts about yourself enter your mind, erase them immediately.

When you wake up in the mornings get a clear picture of a self-image in your mind. What do you want to accomplish today? Write it on a piece of paper and post it on the refrigerator, mirror or someplace in your dorm. Engrave it on your heart.

Life can be full of questions and not enough answers. We know that answers are somewhere waiting to be discovered, but the question is where?

***

If you are missing such an important piece to mistakes that people make in life, which is: there is ALWAYS a lesson learned. Most people do what you I mentioned they do, and they inflict this self-doubt and self-hate, they sulk themselves in misery instead of reflection. If people would look at their mistakes and take advantage of this great knowledge of wealth placed in front of them to learn from they'd be much better off. In order to move forward you must make a movement someway, somehow, but by sulking and being miserable, putting yourself down.....you are just standing still. That won't get ya anywhere.

Learn from your mistakes. Take the time to plan before you make your next move. Once you move forward after careful planning, don't look back!

The Advantages of Erotic Writing

All right. Erotica. Porn. Smut. That thing "nice girls" don't do, and conventional wisdom has it that women aren't interested in.

After all, women are turned off by the hardcore male porn rags -- Hustler and the like -- and when it comes to Playgirl, there are a fair amount of females who find the pictures sterile. Women, you see, like hearts and flowers and true love, and possibly heaving breasts of passion in a romance novel.

What do women want?

I am about to generalize shamelessly. A great many women enjoy a good erotic read, but they like something beyond the specific body parts; hence a story is often more useful in that way than a picture. Eroticism, for women (and for some men) may be invested in many things: in attitude, voice, the tenor of a relationship, the way a man grins, the way he whispers, the things he whispers. In leather jackets and tight jeans, in white tie and tails. In power or in obsession. In sudden acts of kindness or unexpected witticisms. In heroism or in guilt.

These things, you must understand (I assume here that I'm speaking to a space alien) are not simply endearing, they can also be erotic. A turn-on. A signal that goes right to the groin and the lungs, catching the breath, flushing the cheeks.

Because, you see, chicks like it all. The whole thing. The old in-and-out is the least of it, a simple expression of a long and diffuse tickle that starts with a sudden cast of light on a face, an abrupt realization that thank god, now all things are new again.

(Yes, all these sexual distractions apply to many men as well, to greater or lesser degree; and there are men who read erotic writing too, and a few men who write it very well indeed. I did say that I was generalizing shamelessly.)

This generalized eroticism means that writing in a sexual mode for a female audience is a challenge akin to pass The Dead Man Curve towards 90-East in Cleveland-Ohio without killing yourself. Hehehe... LoL

You can't just throw two blank slates onto a page and have them f*** like bunnies; your audience would be appalled. (Where's the need? Where's the tease? Where's the knowledge, the emotional hook, the thing that makes what these two people are doing hot?)

And there are romance novels out there -- the erotica variety -- that seek to do exactly this, bless their literary hearts, and a portion of them succeed quite well.

But you know, some of us are wicked and impatient, and 200 pages book is a long time to wait.

Clearly there are those among us who will not let their harmless pleasures be fettered by long romance books. We need the real stuff, we need it quick and we need it now. It was disconcerting to realize how much importance I had been giving to an issue that was not, at heart, something that reflected on character.

Given all that alienness between the sexes, it's somewhat reassuring to know that there can be common ground in our artistic pleasures. It's nice to share our toys.

And, we can only hope, fiery as anything.

I’m like an imbecile with a can opener in my hand!

I stood before a mirror and said dreadfully: - 'I want to see how I look in the mirror with my eyes closed.' No man is great enough or wise enough for any of us to surrender our destiny to. The only way in which anyone can lead us is to restore to us the belief in our own guidance.

And yet---yet despite all the outward evidence of being close-knit, interrelated, neighborly, good-humored, helpful, sympathetic, almost brotherly, we are a lonely people, a morbid, crazed herd thrashing about in zealous frenzy, trying to forget that we are not what we think we are, not really united, not really devoted to one another, not really listening, not really anything, just digits shuffled about by some unseen hand in a calculation which doesn't concern us.

We are not equals; we are mostly inferior, vastly inferior, inferior particularly to those who are quiet and contained, who are simple in their ways, and unshakable in their beliefs. We resent what is steady and anchored, what is impervious to our blandishments, our logic, our collectivized cud of principles, our antiquated forms of allegiance.

I guess the trouble with us is that we can not swallow the fact that we are another nobody. The sensation which we long to possess, in order to establish the good, the true and the beautiful.

Drama always affected me strangely, always aroused the sense of ridiculous, especially when motivated by love. Perhaps that was why, in moments of desperation, I could always laugh at myself. The moment I made the decision to act I became another person---the actor. And of course I always overplayed the part.

How we hate to admit that we would like nothing better than to be the slave! Slave and master at the same time! For even in love the slave is always the master in disguise. The man who must conquer the woman, subjugate her, bend her to his will, form her according to his desires---is he not the slave of his slave?

Two solid bodies colliding in space at the wrong time, rubbing surfaces together, exchanging souvenirs, plugging in wrong numbers, promising and repromising, forgetting, parting, remembering again...hurried, mechanical, meaningless, and what the hell does all add up to?

The Buddha went so far as to say: - "Believe nothing, no matter where you read it or who has said it, not even if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense.

Nothing would be bad or ugly or evil---if we really let ourselves go. But it's hard to make people understand that. Anyway, that's the difference between the world of imagination and the world of common sense, which isn't common sense at all but sheer buggery and insanity. If you stop till and look at things....I say look, not think, and not criticize...the world looks absolutely crazy to you. And it is crazy, by God! It's just as crazy when things are normal and peaceful as in times of war and revolution. The evils are insane evils, and the panaceas are insane panaceas. Because we're all driven like dogs. We're running away. From what? We don't know. From a million nameless things.

I feel something as though I'm going to burst. I really don't give a dam about the misery of the world. I take it for granted. What I want is to open up. I'm like an imbecile with a can opener in his hand, wondering where to begin---to open up the earth. I know that underneath the mess everything is marvelous. I'm sure of it. I know it because I feel so marvelous myself most of the time."

Yours in fear,
The man who sold the world

Of love..

The stage is more beholding to love, that the life of man. For as to the stage, love is ever matter of comedies, and now and then of tragedies; but in life it doth much mischief; sometimes like a siren, sometimes like a fury.

You may observe that amongst all the great and worthy persons (whereof the memory remained, either ancient or recent) there is not one, which has been transported to the mad degree of love: which shows that great spirits, and great business, do keep out this weak passion.

It is a strange thing, to note the overload of this passion, and how it braves the nature, and value of things, by this; that the speaking in a perpetual hyperbole, is comely in nothing but in love. Neither is it merely in the phrase; for whereas it has been well said, that the arch-flatterer, with whom all the petty flatterers have intelligence, is a man's self; certainly the lover is more.

For there was never proud man thought so absurdly well of himself, as the lover doth of the person loved; and therefore it was well said, that it is impossible to love, and to be wise. Neither doth this weakness appear to others only, and not to the party loved; but to the loved most of all, except the love be reciprocal.

For it is a true rule, that love is ever rewarded, either with the reciprocal, or with an inward and secret contempt. By how much the more, men ought to beware of this passion, which lost not only other things, but itself!

I know not how, but martial men are given to love: I think, it is but as they are given to wine; for perils commonly ask to be paid in pleasures. There is in man's nature, a secret inclination and motion, towards love of others, which if it be not spent upon some one or a few, doth naturally spread itself towards many, and make men become humane and charitable; as it is seen sometime in friars. Matrimonial love makes mankind; friendly love perfected it; but wanton love corrupted, and embossed it.

I'm not concerned with what you look like.

I want to know how you look at life, and if you look for the good in people. How do you want other people to see you? What do you see that you can do so that others may see you as you wish they would? These are your "looks" that I care most about.

I'm not concerned with how much money you have.

I want to know if you are rich in less material matters, for that speaks of your character. Do you see the beauty in each day? Do you treasure your friendships and family? Are you thankful for what you have? Or do you ignore the beauty around you and take life and them.

I'm not concerned with your shortcomings.

I want to know if you try and you fail, whether you know that failing at any THING doesn't make YOU a failure. I want to know if you fail time and time again, can you still look at a sunset and realize the beauty of it, or see the innocence and trust in the eyes of a child, or be grateful that each day is a new beginning? I want to know if you fail today, will begin a new tomorrow with as much faith, resolve, and passion as the day before?

Live with purpose and intent. Create a living masterpiece. After all, it's your LIFE.

Take charge of it!