The heart vs. the real world.

There comes a time when you have a decision to make about matters of the heart. You know you have to make it, you know you can’t put it off, but the possible consequences are potentially devastating. And you don’t want to deal with those consequences. But remaining silent will do nothing more than agitate you.
So you fret and fuss and overthink the shit out of it, wondering what to do. It plays on your mind, driving you even battier than you already are. But finally, you make the decision to speak to the other person, to tell them how you feel, consequences be damned. You have to be honest and true to yourself, even if that means nothing good will come of it.

And then, the decision is made for you. And as much as you’re relieved you don’t have to make it, it bothers you that the choice was taken away from you. It’s your call to make about how you communicate. You’re not upset with the other person; in a way, they’ve made it a lot easier for you to accept the situation and make peace with it. But you still wonder from time to time, what could have been, one way or the other.

It’s a familiar story, one whose refrain I’ve heard a lot over the years. But it’s very, very different when you’re the one making the decision. Very different indeed….

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I live! And some random thoughts for you.

I’m baaaaaaaaaaaack. Did you miss me? Probably not. But it’s cool. I’ll let that slide. 🙂

So a few things on my mind on this hot as fuck July day here in NYC. The humidity is what’s really doing people in. Ugh, just ugh. Well, let’s get to the fun stuff.

I saw Spider-Man: Homecoming. Good movie. Tom Holland does a good job as young Peter. Michael Keaton was AWESOME as Vulture (even thought he was never called that). Bokeem Woodbine has always been a steadily good actor, and his role as Keaton’s second in command confirms this. Someone get him a feature part, or at least a co-star role in something with a budget.

And why was everyone bitching about Zendaya as MJ? I think she did a great job having been given a way too over the top emo character. Seriously, they really needed to tone that shit down. Less emo, more real emotion and she was set. And was Ned supposed to be Ned Leeds? Perhaps there’s a hint of a Hobgoblin appearance in a future movie. I’m down for that.

AND THAT CONEY ISLAND SCENE. YES! YES! YES!

Also watched the Power Rangers reboot movie. I normally don’t watch those things, since I hate reboots (Hollywood, gimme original material, FFS!), but it wasn’t too bad overall. But they did a huge disservice to Zordon by making him such a dick. -50 points for that. And the Rangers armor looked like bootleg Iron Man armor. Ug-ly.

The new Doctor has been announced, and it’s a woman. I lost track of Doctor Who before Season 11 really started, so I have no personal opinion on her casting. Let her talent determine her reception. But there are the fuckwits who are losing their tiny minds over the fact the new Doctor regenerated into a woman.

Really? Fucking REALLY? Here’s a show about time travel, aliens, vampires, semi-sentient phone booths, genocidal robots, statues that will kill you if you’re not looking at them, and a woman in love with a female fucking reptilian, and THIS is what you’re pissed about? Fuck outta here with that shit.

And there’s the other side, who think this doesn’t go far enough to give women a bigger role in tv. Yo, the Doctor’s archenemy is now a woman, the most recent companion was a black lesbian, and now we have a female Doctor. The fuck else do you want? Change takes time, and the show is already ahead of the curve. Hakuna your tatas and enjoy what’s being done. And yes, I’m looking at you, Anita Sarkeesian.

I’m also officially not buying Diablo 3 for PC anytime soon. Fuck you, Blizzard, for releasing untested, unfinished content for money and immediately having to patch it because you mental midgets don’t know how to playtest your shit. Learn how to debug your product, you blithering idiots.

I’ve kept up my writing, though now it’s being spread across 7 different stories at the moment. Yes, I can’t focus on any one of them, but I am writing, so that’s the more important part.

And my ability to focus on this is at an end, so I’ll catch y’all later.

If MGTOWs are retards, then Incels aren’t human.

Time for another rude post title! Which means I got some skewering to do.

Whilst I was contemplating lunch today (meatball parm hero, for the curious, and quite tasty), a friend of mine wrote about her first encounter with an Incel. I had precisely no idea what that was, but when there was a comparison made to the MGTOW bunch, I knew this was bad.

Incel is short for “Involuntary Celibate.” For whatever reason, these guys can’t get laid. Or get a girlfriend. Or even get women to talk to them. Why, I don’t really know. I don’t care about their reasons. I care about their actions.

As with the MGTOW bunch, if they just complained about their shitty luck, I wouldn’t mind them too much. Hey, not all of us have what it takes to get women (and I’ll include myself in that list for several periods in my life), or to keep a girlfriend.

But as with the MGTards (hey, I just coined a new phrase!), they go beyond that, advocating raping women, longing for the days when women “knew their place in the kitchen”, and so on. Some of these assholes scream from the roof tops that women who’ve slept with more than one guy should be banned from college. These neo-con Neanderthals just boggle my mind with their bullshit.

And the poster boy for this shit is a murderous moron named Elliot Rodger, who killed 7 people, himself included, in 2014 when he couldn’t get laid. Sadly, he didn’t have the sense to kill himself at home where he couldn’t hurt anyone else.

Did I say that out loud? Please note the lack of fucks I give. After all, I play Dungeons and Dragons, so the FBI already has me on their list. Hi Feds! Go fuck yourselves!

But back to the point. The incels, like the MGTards, are making it increasingly difficult for guys to meet and maintain relationships with women. Flat out, this is blatant and widespread douchebaggery on the part of my fellow men.

You assholes ARE the problem. And I only wish I could solve the problem that you are with the business end of a flamethrower. The world would be a better place. Fuck you all.

PS: The meatball parm hero was fucking delicious.

Say it if it’s worth saving me.

I hit karaoke last night. A friend’s son was celebrating his 21st birthday, and she decided his first official bar outing should be with the semi-professional drunks she knows and loves. It’s a good choice, as it gets him to learn his limits and tolerances with people he knows are safe to be around. Parenting done right, to be honest.

As is wont to occur at karaoke, the love songs popped up at the end of the night. And as I listened to them, as I enjoyed the sound and the lyrics and the people signing along (myself included), I came to a realization:

It’ll never be me singing those songs to my girlfriend, or fiancée, or wife.

They say that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and thinking you’ll get a different result. They’re right. 20 some odd years of dating, of searching for She Who Is Right For Me, and I’ve barely come close. So what’s the purpose of continuing to do the same thing only to get the same shitty result? What is it about dating and romance that supposedly makes it different?

It’s because humanity is so desperate to be with someone to avert loneliness that they’ll willingly drive themselves nuts with this in the hope of eventually breaking the pattern of heartache and loss. And all they’re doing is setting themselves up for more of the same, just in the future in smaller doses. If you look at that from a strictly logical point of view, it’s completely ridiculous.

And after what went down with Ms. No-Show, I have no faith in it. At all. There’s no point in investing time and energy into a zero sum game when I have far more important things to handle.

And you know what? I’ll be happy to restart dating…..once She Who Is Right For Me gets off her ass, finds me, and convinces me why I should give her a chance. I’m not going to put in the effort to impress her. SHE can impress ME. After all, I keep hearing all this yapping about feminism wanting equality, yet it does not seem to extend to dating. Well, let’s see that change. Let’s see women ask men out on dates and do all the things guys do for women to impress them. Let’s see the script get flipped.

But it won’t.

How NOT to date.

I was having a bad day today. Sad, depressed, tired, not wanting to get out of bed. Life for me has been rough for a while, and I’m not sure there’s an end for it in sight. But I push on, because that’s what I do. That’s what I have to do.

Then I looked at my phone.

Remember her? I do. And looking at my phone managed to enrage me. And if there’s one thing I know about me, once I’m angry, I gotta let it out. And here we are.

This past Friday, I decided to meet up with some friends and hit up the bar I go to for karaoke. As I’m waiting for the bus (and a colossal, Brooklyn inspired FUCK YOU to the MTA for being one of the biggest bunch of incompetent retards on the planet), she texts me. She claims that she no showed on me because her boss dumped 2 months of budgets on her for an 8AM meeting the next day. Allegedly, she left the office at 10 and didn’t stop working from home until 3AM. She also says she was so mad she threw her phone and cracked it.

Riiiiiight. I don’t believe a fucking word of what she’s saying. There was absolutely no excuse for her not to contact me before she supposedly got that mad at her job.

She then proceeds to apologize and uses her job as an excuse.

Really? You knew full well before we made these plans exactly how busy your job could be. This type of thing happening was not a surprise to you. You knew this could occur, but did you adjust for it? Did you decide to wait until the immediate craziness passed and things were at a less hectic level to try to meet up? Nope. You didn’t. You went full ahead and ignored the facts about your situation. Smart, real smart.

She then proceeds to complain how she didn’t even have time to doll herself up. Which I DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT. You’re coming from work. I don’t expect you to look like you spent 3 hours on hair and makeup. I expect you to SHOW UP. I’m not going to critique your makeup and hair after work. I have no fashion sense. As long as you’re not wearing rags and don’t look like you went 10 rounds with Mike Tyson, it’s all good.

I have no interest in a 3 hour text conversation, so I call her. Goes to voicemail. She texts me that her phone’s earpiece can’t pick up voices so she can’t hear anyone that calls her. She says she’s going the next day to get her phone fixed. I tell her to call me after the phone is fixed. She says she will and thanks me for hearing her out.

That was Friday. Haven’t heard from her since. I’m not sure I will. And you know what? I just don’t care. she didn’t have the common sense to do things properly, to take into account the situation that is her life, and royally fucked up. Fuck this bullshit.

SHIT LIKE THIS IS WHY PEOPLE STAY SINGLE. If you want to meet up with someone, do the exact opposite of what she did and you’re golden.

Fucking bullshit.

You are the reason people don’t date.

So, remember the chick I ranted about in my last post? I decided, out of the surprising amount of kindness somehow left in this withered black hole of a heart I have, to give her a chance to meet up with me. She swore she was 100 (yes, she used that fucking stupid emoji) going to meet me. We scheduled for yesterday at 6 to meet up.

I get off the train at 5:45. Given walking times in Manhattan, modified by foot traffic during rush hour and my walking speed, I was going to make it at around 6 on the dot, possibly a minute late. So I was all good for this. Or so I thought.

As is habit, I took out my phone and saw a text from her. At 5:36, while I was still on the train, she said she was running late and was going to meet me at 6:45.

What. The. Fuck. You swear we’re going to meet up, that you’re 100 sure you won’t have any problems, and you’re already telling me you’re gonna be late?

::Insert string of expletives and rage::

So I tell her where I’ll be. 6:45 comes around, she’s not there. I text her to find out where she is. No response. I exercise god-tier patience and wait until 7:30. No response, no nothing. I call her and it goes to voicemail.

::Insert string of expletives and rage::

I leave her a message kindly telling her to fuck off. Then I text her this:

“Check your voicemail when you get a chance. Goodbye.”

Haven’t heard from her since. Probably won’t. I went home, got pizza and called it a night.

As angry as I am over this (which is a reason why I’m doing this today, rather than last night), what is even worse is that she expressed interest in me and then pulled this shit. I didn’t approach her, I didn’t ask for her number. Hell, I had zero intentions that night of even trying to talk to any women. She gave her number to me, unsolicited, and then this shit gets pulled. People like her are why the rest of us despise dating. Men and women who do this are the problem in the dating scene.

I’m done. I’m done dating, done looking, done giving a fuck. The next woman that wants to go out with me had better be nothing short of immaculate when it comes to scheduling and showing up, because it’s one strike and she’s done.

Dating is bullshit. Don’t fall into the trap.