Stupid Is As Stupid Does: 15 Years Of Abject Stupidity And How I’m Overcoming It

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On the May 25, 1998 episode of WWF Monday Night Raw, “Stone Cold” Steve Austin, during a segment that featured the arrest of WWF chairman Vince McMahon, began his promo with one of my favorite lines of all time from a wrestling program:

“I hope you’re proud of yourself, because what you’ve done is prove, without a shadow of a doubt, you are the world’s dumbest son of a bitch…”

While that tickled me to no end 21 years ago, it now hits a little too close to home because, since the summer of 2005, I have lived the description to the fullest.

Honestly, I don’t know how I am still alive today, other than abject stupidity isn’t fatal in it’s simplest form. It can easily lead to death, but on it’s own, it’s mostly harmless. I haven’t been stupid enough to walk in front of a moving train or jump down an elevator shaft from the 17th story of a large building or set myself on fire or anything.

But my involvement, with every woman I have met from June 2005 to July 2019, represents a level of utter stupidity I never thought I would ever come close to reaching. And in most of those cases, the clues were all there that a bad ending would eventually work its way into the story, yet I continued to get involved in situations I shouldn’t have.

From the borderline-retarded moron that lived three hours away from me (2005) to the morbidly obese older woman (2006-09) to the verified prostitute (2010-17) to the girl who ghosted me (2018) to the 6’2”, 330 pound female mountain (2019) to the woman with the mustache (2019) it’s just been one horrible experience after another.

And the worst part is, I want to lash out, but what does that accomplish? I’m the God damn, blithering idiot here. I’m the one that allowed these things to happen.

Two of these cretins stole from me, the first was the legit moron in 2005 who lived in the most inbred hick town in West Virginia that looked like something right out of Deliverance. She didn’t take me for money, but took a large collection of vintage Ghostbusters toys I had collected in my youth because her bastard kid wanted them. So she took them.

The second, the buck-toothed prostitute I got involved with from 2010-17, stole thousands of dollars from me, including openly admitting to about $1,700 from my bank account. I had given her my debit card to pay for her heating oil and rather than, you know, paying for her heating oil, she blew through the $1,700 and was broke when the heating oil arrived. Her reason? It was my fault. I shouldn’t have trusted her with my money.

Or my sperm, but that’s a story for another day, I’m annoyed enough and I don’t want to get into my desire to see anyone with their skull crushed by a very large rock.

Because, again, every bad thing that has ever happened to me is my own fault.

Part of this is because I have no self control whatsoever and I get myself into situations I can’t get out of because I can’t say “no.” Let’s look at February 2019, for instance.

I went out with a woman who dwarfed me. And I’m not small guy; I’m 5’10” and about 240 pounds. This woman was at least four inches taller than me and easily 80 to 100 pounds bigger. I can’t tell you how disinterested I was in her. Yet before she left, there we were in my Jeep, kissing and groping. When she left, I sat there for about 15 minutes wondering what was wrong with me and why I had no common sense whatsoever.

The last woman I was “Facebook Official” with, in October 2018, was one of the smaller mistakes I made but it still shows my lack of basic common sense. She was a bum, had no desire to work and wanted a man to support her and her two kids after she got divorced. It was obvious. Yet I still walked into that situation in spite of everything and it’s not like I was madly in love with this woman. To be honest, I still don’t know her middle name.

Luckily, I walked away from that and never looked back in spite of four months of her begging to reconcile. My answer was “no” the first time and “no” the 500th time.

So why couldn’t I be like that all the time?

The last woman I talked to “romantically,” (the mustached one) I was involved with off and on for roughly four months. Within a week of our talking, one of my closest confidants (herself one of my previous mistakes in 2018) told me to tell the girl to fuck off. And boy, do I wish I had. It was just another colossal failure in a large number of colossal failures.

But luckily, the times may be a’changin’.

I’ve started making smart decisions, for the first time in 15 years. I began by unfriending most every woman on my Facebook and Instagram friends list who were even remotely potential relationships. Blocked a good many of them. I have walled myself in, surrounded with people I trust and that I don’t have to worry about in the future.

All of these women who were mistakes in the past have been cast off and blocked, with the exception of the one who has had those sins expunged and is now one of my closest confidants and most trustworthy friends. I may have made those mistakes before, but with my new blocking plan, I won’t be making those mistakes again.

Because two days ago, I almost did. Which is what brought me to this point.

I readded three women on Facebook I have had bad experiences with. One is a very unattractive woman who thinks because she is well-endowed (that means she has large breasts, for the uninitiated who may read this) that she is every man’s fantasy. She’s not. She’s hard to look at, unless she is flashing some cleavage and you don’t look at her actual face. The second was the mustached individual mentioned earlier, whom I wish I had never met but again, I can’t vouch for myself and my decisions. The third is a two-time divorcee and apparently rabid Liberal that everyone warned me not to get involved with.

I had unfriended all three of these creatures over the past 12 months, and in one day, for some reason, I sent all three friend requests and all three were accepted. I went to bed that night thinking I was doing something noble. I didn’t sleep and got up the next morning in a near panic attack wondering what in the blue hell I had been thinking last night.

I rectified those mistakes and am back in my “safe” zone, with these idiots outside the bounds of communication. And I have felt better ever since I made that choice.

This is why I will never, under any circumstances, get involved in a relationship again. If I’m in it, that means it’s awful and it’s going to end badly, but only after I have either lost tears or blood or money or my life. And no relationship is worth any of that.

The prostitute I was with for seven years even tried to get me arrested on a trumped-up charge that the sheriff’s office saw through pretty quickly. I have subsequently learned she still tries to use that as a basis for attention on Facebook without giving out any details. Of all these idiots I have dealt with, she is the one whose grave I will piss on one day. I wouldn’t lift a finger to hurt that worthless piece of garbage, but if she were on fire and I was holding an extinguisher, I’d throw it away and sit down and watch, with pleasure.

Since 2005, I have been involved in one way or another with 20 women, from going on dates to “talking” to full blown relationships to a ridiculous engagement that was just about as legitimate as her bastard kid she herself referred to as a “mistake.” And all 20 were absolute, complete and total mistakes. I would undo every single one of them if I could.

That is a horrible record for a guy who has no business getting involved again.

It’s gotten so bad I’m starting to get migraine headaches again. I thought I had ended that when I got away from the prostitute but now I think my hair is falling out again and I can’t sleep, and this time I have no one to blame but myself, and maybe I’ve never had anyone to blame but myself. My agreeing to get involved is what put me on this course.

As Forrest Gump said, “stupid is as stupid does,” and even though that was in 1994 he was clearly talking about me and clearly referring to my life from 2005-19.

But from here on out, that will change. And in 15 years I’ll look back and see how much enjoyment I’ve had and realize I could have had it all along, if I just had sense.

Thank you for reading, and God bless.

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The New Era Begins

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Around noon on Saturday, August 24, 2019, the new era begins.

The new era of me on social media.

There will be changes. Not just cosmetic changes (i.e. a new profile pic) but real change, change in substance and change in style.

My reputation precedes me when it comes to the ladies; I love girls, I always have and I always will. There is nothing more beautiful than the human female form, it’s perfect, down to the last detail. And I have always celebrated the female form on my social networking sites, be it in the form of memes or just basic photos of women in various stages of undress.

My male friends have long enjoyed these posts, as have I. However, due to the changing nature of the beast we call Facebook, I will no longer be posting these memes or photos because one person’s simple photo celebrating a beautiful woman is another person’s reason to come unhinged and report the photo as being something it is not.

This will also apply to my memes that are not about celebrating the female body. In the past I had no reservations about posting memes on any subject, no matter how controversial, so long as they were funny. I have no learned that literally anything can be perceived as “offensive” if a person wants to be despicable enough. So I will no longer post anything that could be in any way perceived as offensive to anyone, which means no memes about women in any way, no memes about relationships or marriage, no political memes or anything connected.

From here on out, my Facebook, Instagram and Twitter accounts will feature Chicago White Sox stories, stat pieces and news, which has been a hallmark of my social media presentations for over a decade, and my memes will be the most mundane I can find, featuring Star Trek, science, cats and dogs, pun humor (as long as it’s not sexual in nature) and nothing featuring any level of bad language. Everything right down to the word “damn” is now persona non grata on my wall. My wall, and profile, will be the height of class and dignity from now on.

And I don’t want it to sound like I am doing this against my will, per se. Yes, I enjoyed posting beautiful women for everyone to enjoy, I enjoy dirty jokes and limericks and puns as much as the next person (and maybe more so), but I am not taking any chances on being locked out of my account for an entire month, especially since I am the only person on earth who is not allowed to have a secondary account; I attempted to start one and it was closed on me.

I also would like to change the narrative about myself.

While there has always been enjoyment in posting as I have posted in the past, there is also the thought of how I am perceived online, and “immature” would probably be the nicest way to word it. No one has ever been openly offended by my posts, at least to my face, though clearly someone has been or I wouldn’t have spent 14 of the past 21 days in Facebook jail. I want to get away from that and be taken more seriously as a man and as a human being.

I am also making a major change in the way I interact with others. I have always been very liberal with the like and love buttons. I enjoyed giving people feedback on their posts and I’m not one to shy away from complimenting when the circumstance dictates. From this point on, it will not matter what circumstance dictates, because I will be refraining from participating to the extent that I have in the past. I will continue to engage in baseball talk with the guys, which is literally the only reason I am on social media in the first place, but everything else is over.

Finally, I am going to be a lot more discriminating when it comes to accepting friend requests. In the past, if you were a White Sox fan or a local single female or I knew you in person, you had an automatic “in,” and others would be included on a case-by-case basis. That will no longer be the case. White Sox fandom will continue to be an automatic acceptance, but other than that, I’m going to be using the “decline” button on a regular basis and be more vigilant.

Maybe at 42 it’s just time to grow up and use social networking for the only reason I got it in the first place, to network with other White Sox fans. That’s what brought me to the show in the first place. I had my first social media account, MySpace, in 2005. I got Facebook in 2007 and Twitter in 2009. I held out on Instagram until 2016. I closed my MySpace account in 2010, but still retain the other three. And I have been going through each one, removing any questionable content as I serve out my sentence in the Facebook Penitentiary. And it has been therapeutic.

Going forward, I hope this makes for a more enjoyable experience for all involved.

Peace.

What’s Next?… My Future On Social Media And In Life

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With this whole “Facebook jail” thing about to end by 10:00 AM Eastern Time tomorrow, I have found myself spending the past week looking at how Facebook has affected my online time as well as my time offline, in terms of what I was doing in relation to Facebook. Like most everyone else, I tended to share pics of certain meals I had prepared, what movies I was watching as well as songs and quotes that fit my mood.

After a week of not doing that, I find myself in the odd spot of not knowing if I’ll ever do any of that again. Some shares were kind of “expected,” for instance I enjoy sharing my cigar selection with the “Cigar Obsession” group when I get a chance to smoke. I enjoy sharing as well as seeing what other group members are smoking and getting feedback on various sticks. But that’s different than posting for posting’s sake.

But it’s not just social media. I have a different outlook on everything.

First, I’ve decided that now is the time to knock off all the “not dating for a specified time” nonsense and just accept things as they are; my “dating” days are over. At 42, my best days are long past, and my options are so few that it’s not worth wasting my time. Every day I see women dating men with police records, no money, drug problems, bad teeth, you name it, and for whatever reason they are a better option than I am. Fair enough. From this day forward, no matter who you are, consider me to be unavailable.

The upshot of me being unavailable is that I am going to dedicate my spare time to many of the things I’ve wanted to do for years and didn’t have the chance to do because of ugly, complaining, exasperating women. There are no more of them in the picture, so now I can focus on my video game pursuits (MLB The Show and the Batman Arkham series, in particular), watching movies and shows I haven’t had the opportunity to see in years (or maybe ever) and spending my money on myself rather than some skank.

Two weeks ago at this time I was in love; one week ago at this time I had a feeling I would be completely taking myself off the market permanently. Today, I have.

I feel like a failure, and most of my problems in life were self-inflicted. I wasted 10 of my prime years in relationships with women I shouldn’t have even given a second glance to. Disgusting, worthless women. That is 100% on me. Instead of pursuing women that were on my level, I consistently aimed low and settled for far less than I should have.

This past week has allowed me to look deep inside my own soul and I am so ready to change the way I live and how I interact on social media and in person with society. I feel happier already and have definitely enjoyed my day. I’m ready to watch DC Comics shows and movies, play video games, smoke cigars, cook, go for long drives and just be happy for a change. I haven’t been consistently happy since 2005. I’m long overdue.

Thank you for reading.

The Negative Effect Of Social Networking On Straight Men

As I look over social networking on a daily basis, whether it’s to post Chicago White Sox baseball stories for discussion among my friends, pictures or videos of bikini girls or the best memes I can find, I am consistently surprised at some of the things I see posted by local men who are, supposedly, straight.

Some examples:


Seriously.

A decade ago, this kind of garbage would have been publicly posted only by teenage girls who were upset that their high school crush wasn’t interested or maybe by a complete and total nerd who didn’t know any better.

Now grown, adult men who are supposedly straight post this kind of thing.

Is it subterfuge to try to get women to think they are romantic or have some special feelings that most men don’t have? Because I’ll openly admit I’m just about as romantic as a coconut. So, if this is someway to try to buck the system, I get it. But I can’t respect it. What’s next, selfies in a miniskirt?

If you’re a man, act like a man. Not a teenage girl.

If you’re trying to get a girl’s attention, that’s not the way to do it. I imagine that any woman who sees that is going to think you’re pathetic.

And you know what? You are. No man is out looking for a soulmate. That’s fucking ridiculous, even putting aside the point that I don’t believe in such childish balderdash to begin with. Any woman who gets with a man like this probably will have to paint his toenails and listen to him cry when he gets home from work every night sitting on the couch having a glass of wine.

Pathetic.

Be a man. Watch a porno or read Playboy or Penthouse and post some dirty memes or tell a dirty joke and smoke a cigar and have a beer or a shot of whiskey. Or do you seriously not realize how ridiculous you look?

Like I said, if you’re a man, act like it. If you’re an emotional, heartbroken little powder-puff, you end up looking a lot more like this than a man:

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Peace.

“Do I look pretty?” … and other stupid questions women ask, and shouldn’t…

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I am going to rant about something that has been grinding on me for well over a decade.

Are you required to compliment your significant other, regardless of the truth? This goes back to the old “do these jeans make me look fat?” joke of years’ past. But I want to dig a little deeper than that. I want to look at this situation deeply, from the inside.

Everyone who knows me knows that I am straight-up honest. If I find a woman to be attractive, I tell her. Not in a condescending way, but truthfully. If I don’t find a woman to be attractive, I don’t tell her. There’s no sense in lying to someone about something like that. Especially since beauty is only skin-deep. I think it’s best to just be honest.

From 2006 to 2009, I would argue with a significant other on a regular basis about the fact that she had to, as she said “beg for compliments.” I think that speaks for itself.

The truth of the matter is, I did not find this woman attractive and felt no need to lie to her face in order to make her feel like I did, even when both of us would have known I was not being honest. She was 305 pounds when we met and could barely fit through the door.  I felt it best to keep my mouth shut. My options were to lie, or to change the subject, or to try to angle my way out of it, i.e. “you have a great sense of humor” which would have been so transparent any idiot could have figured it out.

So, what is proper protocol here? Do you just go ahead and say “you look absolutely marvelous?” when you are about to throw up in your mouth a little bit? Do you tell the truth and say “you know, I have never really found you to be all that attractive and honestly, I have seen elephants that were smaller than you.” Or do you respond with “I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that may answer may tend to make you want to split my skull open with an ax?” Is there really a correct answer here at all?

Personally, I kept my mouth shut. All that did was lead to arguments, which would probably be the universal response from women, ugly or not. So if a woman knows a man is not attracted to her, what is the point in even asking him to give an opinion?

Earlier this summer, I went out with a woman who I was absolutely captivated by. And I was very vocal about how beautiful I thought she was. If I say it of my own volition, is that more meaningful than if I have to be coerced into saying it when I don’t mean it?

I think the bigger question might be why I date women I am so attracted to but only get into relationships with women that make my colon clench and make me nauseated.

Maybe there is no “correct” answer to a conundrum like this… And I can live with that…

Me First: Why I Like Being Incompatible With Everyone Else

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Over the years I have been called selfish, obstinate, sometimes even hateful and weird.  Not because of anything I’ve done, but because of what I don’t do; I don’t “fit in” with most people.  I see absolutely nothing wrong with this.  I am true to myself, and I am true to what I love.  Because at the end of the day, I have to live with myself, and I don’t have to live with anyone else.  So, the idea of altering anything about myself to try to “fit in” with someone else is not only phony, it’s disgraceful.  But a lot of people seem to do it.

Relationships have been dreadful for me,  for this very reason.  I have never had anything in common with anyone I’ve been in a relationship with.  The closest would probably be my girlfriend in high school, and what we had in common could be counted on one hand.  I mean, we liked to watch “Mystery Science Theater 3000” and we were both big Garfield marks, and we liked a few similar movies, but other than that, nothing.

My most recent “real” relationship, though.  Whew.  I was in a relationship for a few years with someone that, I can say with all honesty, had nothing in common with me other than the fact that we both ate food and breathed in oxygen.  You couldn’t have found two more mismatched people if you sat me down beside a cannibal from New Guinea.  This woman was many years older than me, which meant we were dealing with a generation gap, but it was in the wrong direction.  She wanted to be “hip,” so she told me once that “anything (movies, music, TV shows, etc.) older than two years old is garbage.”  I, meanwhile, hate most everything current and crave classic music, movies and shows.  So, the upshot of this is we spent every evening watching two different TV’s, or doing everything we did apart from each other.  Most times, not even in the same room at the same time.  It was beyond ridiculous, and stupid.  It was a complete waste of time for both of us.

In situations like those, you can choose to stay with this person who brings nothing positive into your life, and its basically like having a hanger-on because a lot of times they keep you from doing things you enjoy in life just because they don’t like it.  This has been a consistent problem for me.  And a lot of it is based on the fact that I am selfish and obstinate.  I am not changing for anyone.  Isn’t the fact that you would need to change who you are to fit someone else being completely dishonest to yourself?  Why do that?

Here are some examples of me being “obstinate” and “selfish:”

1.  I am a Chicago White Sox fan living in North Central West Virginia.  I am an island unto myself in that respect.  This area is Pittsburgh Pirates country, since I live around 90 miles from “The ‘Burgh.”  So, naturally, anyone I meet who is a sports fan will ask me “why are you a White Sox fan” and “why are you not a Pirates fan?”  Well, because that’s who I am.  I started following the White Sox in 1991.  I’ve invested nearly 27 years of my life into my team, not to mention thousands of dollars.  I’m not about to throw it all away just because there are no other White Sox fans in my area.  That’s not being true to me.

2.  I like classic movies and TV shows, and I haven’t watched anything really “current” since the mid-1990s.  Also, I never watched “Friends” or “ER” or “Seinfeld” or any of the shows that everyone else seems to have spent their lives watching.  I also don’t watch anything currently on TV, other than White Sox games on MLB.TV.  People look at me with disbelief and disdain when I mention “no, I don’t watch ‘Game Of Thrones’ or ‘I don’t watch ‘The Walking Dead.'”  This is amusing when I meet people who begin conversations with “oh, my God, did you see…” to which I can shut them down right there and say “no, I didn’t.”  Ask me who won the White Sox game.  That, I know.

3.  I’m my own man and don’t need anyone to “complete” me.  I can enjoy my own company, ad infinitum.  I’ve really never experienced this concept of being “lonely” because I have so many things that I enjoy doing, and that are things I do alone.  I don’t need anyone’s “help,” because nine times out of 10, it’s more of a hindrance than anything else.  I’m not saying I’m not appreciative of people wanting to help in certain situations, but most of the time I prefer to do things myself and do them in my way.

4.  I’m happiest when I am in solitude.  When I can think.  When people aren’t yelling at me or trying to make me do things I don’t want to do, or screwing up my schedule and ruining my day.  I rarely ever ask anyone for anything.  I wish that were the other way around sometimes.  And I’m not talking about friends asking friends for an occasional favor, I’m talking about a constant stream of noise and directives and demands.

Looking at it from an outside perspective, I think I would be hard to live with.  Of course, I have never been in love before so that could make a lot of difference in how I would feel about the situation.  If I loved someone, maybe I could make some adjustments.  But just from looking at me and where I stand now, I just like things the way they are, and I don’t need any interference.  And because I like things this way, I see no reason that I would need to change them, whatsoever.  As Sammy Davis, Jr. sang, “I gotta be me.”

Ultimately, I have no issue growing old alone and enjoying my own company.  In the event that I would ever meet someone who has more in common with me than those I have dealt with previously (and that wouldn’t take much), I might have an interest in looking in that direction.  I also have no trouble with social dating, a night out, dinner and a movie, with a girl who I may have absolutely nothing in common with because when the night is over, she can leave and my life continues, nothing has to change.

In closing, I just want to say that there are more important things in life than whether or not you are compatible with other people.  Be true to yourself first.  If you never have anything in common with anyone, that means that you are more unique than the people you are dealing with.  There’s nothing wrong with that.  There’s a world out there, just because you are an army of one doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it.  I’ve had dinner alone, watched movies alone (in the theater and at home) and that’s just part of my every day life.  You should live it.  Enjoy it.  Because you will always have yourself to share it with.

Peace.