Never Again: The End Of The Road

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I had hoped I would never have to write about this subject again, but circumstances outside of my control necessitated that I address it one final time. While my opinion hasn’t changed, the direction I take to get to that point has. The decision I have expanded on is not new, it was reached some time ago, and this blog entry has been in development for days; the fact that it landed on Valentine’s Day is just kind of an added bonus.

Ten years ago, right around this time, I made a “list” of prerequisites for any woman I would date in the future. I can’t remember specifically all of them but they’ve been addressed in my blog previously, and the original list is long gone, but suffice to say it was a pretty steep climb to make it to the top without violating one of the rules. Of course, in the long run, I failed to keep to the list and ended up with gutter trash that literally violated 90% of the rules I had set for myself. But once I got out of that mess, I decided to reinstate the rules and make a point of actually sticking to them the second time around.

The rules list has opened me up to some criticism, I was once told that no one could possibly live up to the standards I had set. While that may or may not be true, I made it a point to at least try to stick to those guidelines, knowing it was better for me to weed out the trash from the available treasure. The problem with the rule list is that I didn’t look at the big picture, and had to realize there was one rule that didn’t make the list that was kind of a deal breaker if it didn’t work out: The girl in question had to want me.

And that has left me where I am today. But in the past couple of months, I have come to realize, through scrolling my newsfeed daily, that there’s a better reason for me to leave the relationships to people who can handle them. Through meeting single women, not just now but over the course of my life, one point binds them all together and it’s a point I have heard until it rings in my ears. It seems every single woman within a 50 mile radius of where I sit right now has been literally destroyed by an ex at some point in time.

While I’m sure some of these are legitimate, I still take the story with a grain of salt on the simple basis of the fact that people do tend to over-exaggerate. For example, I once dated someone who accused me of “destroying” her because I didn’t spend the night often enough. Sorry, I don’t see that as life-altering and never have. So it’s hard to take it seriously when every woman alive and breathing have been “destroyed” as well.

I know some have been, I know there are guys out there who are gutless pieces of garbage who abuse, but I also have been told right to my face that women like “bad boys” because of a motherly instinct to “fix” them. Drug addict? “Great!” History of physical abuse? “Turn on!” Mental abuse? “That will give me a chance to post about narcissists later on down the road!” Served jail time? “Mmmmm…” Jobless? “He obviously needs me!”

While I’m sure all of those character “enhancements” will really make for a wonderful relationship, the fact is I have none of them and that makes me basically worthless as a potential boyfriend, unless it’s gutter trash who sees me as a potential ATM, which has happened a lot more often than it should in the distant past. But it still happened.

So, the combination of women unable to let go of their exes, even as they berate them and complain of their past on social media ad nauseam, the fact that the worse a guy is, the more character flaws he has, the better, the fact that I lack these character flaws and the fact that no one will ever pass my screening process again, has left me at the point of no return, the point at which I realize that no relationship would ever be worth it.

And before anyone thinks this is a knee-jerk reaction to anything or any kind of Valentine’s Day cloud hanging over my head, I assure you it is not. As I mentioned, this blog entry has been in the works for days and this decision was made some time ago, but has really been set in stone over the past couple of weeks, as I allowed myself to inch outside the box. I cannot imagine many circumstances in the world that would ever change my mind.

I also don’t want it to sound like I’m positioning myself as being “better” than everyone else. I’m guessing it sounds that way but that’s not how I feel inside. I have made a ton of mistakes on my own, I don’t pretend I’m perfect because my own flaws could swallow me whole. But 20 years ago I would have been considered a “catch” due to the fact that I didn’t have all of the issues that are glorified today in making worthless guys into “bad boys” that are somehow the answer to every single woman’s prayers. Good luck.

Had I went about my life differently, I would like to have been married with a family but the fact is, that was never in the cards and it took me a long time to realize it. Naturally, when I did, my first thought was “that’s not fair, what’s wrong with me?” Then I realized its just as much my fault as anyone’s, it’s not just the fact that I lack all of the character flaws that bring out the motherly instinct in single women, or that I boast openly and regularly about being self-sufficient to the point that I don’t need anyone for anything. It also is my own fault, for getting myself into bad situations and then staying in them for years.

I know this whole things also makes me come off as bitter and angry, but that’s not the case at all. I’m as happy as I can possibly be. Given the circumstances of life, I couldn’t ask for much more. I have everything I have ever wanted minus the wife and family, and those aren’t necessities. And I don’t hate women, I love women. I think the female is the most beautiful creation on this planet. As most people know, my Facebook wall is a celebration of the female form. And I’ll always feel that way about women. But as W.C. Fields said, “Women are like elephants. I like to look at them, but I wouldn’t want to own one.”

So, in closing, let me say I wish everyone all the happiness they deserve. I sincerely hope the strung-out, jobless, toothless half-wit that some women have their hearts set on works out, and if not, I hope you find hours of joy with your “narcissist” posts and the attention you get from them until you reconcile or find another dude who fits the same parameters. And for those who have found the love of your life and it’s real, I think that’s beautiful and I wish you all the best. But that kind of thing just isn’t for me anymore. Never again.

Thank you for taking the time to read, and Happy Valentine’s Day to everyone.

The 2010’s: Goodbye and Good Riddance

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I know I’m probably beating a dead horse here, since I have hit on this subject numerous times lately, but I cannot wait for the 2010s to end.

Even though we’re not supposed to wish our lives away, I have been doing exactly that. Every day I wake up and look at the calendar, happier than the day before because this pathetic decade is crawling into it’s final days. Do I expect major changes when I climb out of bed on January 1? Of course not. But that doesn’t mean it can’t happen. After all, change doesn’t come from the calendar, it comes from within.

This decade was awful, on every level. I met so many people I wish I had never seen. I watched the Chicago White Sox struggle through nine losing seasons in 10 years. My mom had a heart attack in 2015 and I’ve watched her age 30 years in the past decade. I was introduced to the court system even though I never did anything to warrant it in 2017 and 2018. I put on over 80 pounds and watched my body go completely to hell. I pondered suicide. And I had to accept that I’ll be eternally single.

But I am trying to put all that negativity behind me forever, and I want to leave all of it in the 2010’s when I walk through the door to the 2020’s.

My Facebook blocked list has expanded exponentially over the past decade. As much as I hate Angie, as much as I would love to pick up the newspaper and see that she had been mauled by a bear or had her head caved in with a cinder block, I absolutely have to let that go and leave that anger and hatred behind me. Revenge will be in God’s hands, as Romans 12:19 so eloquently states (and gives me internal peace):

“Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.” Yes.

I have to let my personal dislike for Holly and Rebecca go. I wish nothing bad on either of them anyway, but I also don’t want to ever have to see, hear or think about either of them again. I want them as far out of my life as they can get, and the only connection to them that I want is their place on my Facebook blocked list.

I have to let go of the heartbreak of losing Beckett. I haven’t been able to do any of the things I enjoy that we used to do together, like watching Ghostbusters or playing DC Comics video games. I can’t let his worthless excuse for a mother get the advantage of me, and have that kind of hold over me, I have to let it go forever.

Accepting the fact that I’m on my own from here on out makes everything easier and I have to learn to love it, not just accept it. I can’t depend on anyone else for anything, and I have to be happy with it. Is it lonely? Of course, but it’s just a case of mind over matter. Is it fair? Of course not, there’s nothing wrong with me that I have to be alone, but the fact is I made my bed and now I have to lie in it. I have no choice now.

It may have been a mistake to be so anti-social in my 20’s but I have no regrets about that. It was definitely a mistake to date such gutter trash all through my 30’s, and I have nothing but regrets about that. But now I have to accept the consequences of the choices I made in the past because I never considered how it could end up.

On the positive side, I should be finished watching losing Chicago White Sox baseball for the next decade. There is no reason there shouldn’t be at least one World Series title in the future, and possibly more. This team is built for the long haul and as long as nothing unforeseen happens (like a strike) we should be set.

I’m also ready to change myself physically and mentally and that can’t come soon enough, but I also don’t want to burn myself out. I want to get myself back into the shape I was in 20 years ago. My body and my brain. I’m so sick of being a big, fat, stupid, lackluster lump of flesh. I want to feel human again. I haven’t felt like me in so long I barely remember what it felt like. Life took a steep downturn in November 2010 and it hasn’t come close to being what it should be since. Though the past week hasn’t been bad it better just be the tip of the iceberg as far as getting back to being “me.”

I’m not asking for anything specific for the upcoming decade other than I want to be happy. I literally am not asking for anything else. I just want to know that I have the intellect and knowledge to stop doing the stupid things I did in the 2010’s and know that whatever decisions I make in the 2020’s will be what’s best for me.

So here’s to the final four days of this God-forsaken decade, I can’t wait to wake up on January 1 and know that era of my life is finally over. I just hope the 2020’s live up to the hype I have built up for it in my mind. It’s all up to me now.

God bless, see you on the other side.

2020: A New Beginning And A New Era

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As I have hopefully made clear in previous posts, I am really ready for the decade of the 2010s to end. This has been the worst decade of my life by a wide margin. In fact, this has been the first decade of my life I would give a failing grade to. I am a generally positive person who can see the good in a bad situation but the good from the 2010s are few and far between.

This blog will not be beating a dead horse and looking back at all that toxic negativity. This blog is about hope, positivity and the future. I think the 2020s have a chance to be great.

I also want to lay out what I want to accomplish as we reach the dawn of a new era.

What has me most excited for the 2020s is the ascension of the Chicago White Sox from laughingstock of Major League Baseball to a viable contender for a World Series title. The decade of the 2010s was just as bad for my favorite baseball team as it was for me. From 2010 through 2019, the White Sox had one (1) winning season out of 10, in 2012, when they finished 85-77 and in second place in the American League Central. Other than that, nothing but negatives.

That is changing, however, as the rebuild that began in late 2016 is starting to bear fruit. It will be fun to follow the team as they continue their improvement for the next several years.

On a personal level, there are a lot of things I want to see change from the 2010s into the 2020s. Physically, mentally and emotionally. I have figured out my mistakes and I am ready to not only stop making them but to move on from them and forget them. Leave the past in the past.

Physically, while I made some strides in 2019, I am far from a finished product. Probably 60 pounds, at least, need to be removed from me when I step on the scale. I want to start making a workout program part of every day, much like I did back in my younger days. In my early 20s, I participated in a weight training program seven days a week and was very happy with myself. I was at my physical peak then. Right now I’m not. I’m still showing the effects of the past ten years and I want to put that in full reversal, with losing weight being the most important. I lost a lot of hair, especially in the latter part of the decade from stress, and am considering just shaving my head. This has been frowned upon by some female acquaintances, but more on that later.

I plan on working out my exercise program in the next week or so, I want to do some combination of weight training and aerobic, while adding endurance exercises later on in 2020.

I debate daily on keeping my beard or trimming it down to a notch above a five-o’clock shadow look. I’ll never go clean-shaven again, but the mountain man look may be a little too much.

I’m thinking maybe a basic buzz cut, not a razor-shaven bald head, with a light beard.

I look young for my age in spite of what stress has done to me in the 2010s and I don’t want to lose that. I have watched my mom age 30 years in the past five and I don’t want to do that at 42 years old. My mom didn’t start to really age until she was 80. I want that kind of longevity.

I also have to start getting more sleep, which means going to bed earlier and actually going to sleep, rather than surfing the web on my phone and being in bed for eight hours but only sleeping for four. I have to make myself understand that the internet will still be there in the morning.

So, if I can drop about 60 pounds, get the “look” that I want and get some sleep, I’ll consider that a victory and a good beginning for the decade. There is no reason I can’t accomplish those goals.

From a mental standpoint, there is a lot I want to do on many fronts. I want to learn. I want to put my mind to work more than I have in the past 15 years. That means exchanging girls for academics, on whatever level of academics I happen to land. I enjoyed scratching the surface on my scientific learning in 2019 and certainly hope to continue that, just on an expanded basis.

Other subjects I would like to study more in-depth include the American Civil War, of which I have been a knowledge sponge for decades. I love American history but haven’t done enough about it. I have a lot of information at my disposal and intend on packing my brain with that info.

Also on the mental side of things, I want to put more time into my MLB The Show franchise on the PlayStation 4. This has been a desire of mine dating back to the mid-1990s, when I was playing Ken Griffey, Jr.’s Winning Run on the Super Nintendo. I want to play the part of general manager and build the White Sox like I was running the team. I have been through a number of video games in an attempt to do this, including every MLB offering from Sony since MLB 98 over 20 years ago. If I fail in this endeavor again, I have a secondary option I would like to give a try to again.

Back in the 1990s, I enjoyed playing NCAA Football games and “creating” myself at UCLA, playing my career there, and then getting drafted into the NFL. The earliest version of this started in 1995, my senior year in high school. I haven’t given it a real try since 2001, but if MLB The Show fails, 2020 may be the time to do it, 25 years after the original run. I have to use outdated games (NCAA Football 14 is the newest to be released due to licensing issues, but it will have to do).

More importantly, from a standpoint of my mental health, is to nurture my friendships with the people who actually care about me and to eliminate the toxic people from my life. This may seem like a no-brainer, but I have a really bad habit of being involved with toxic people. And this is not a new phenomenon, this has followed me for most of my life, for at least 30 years now. I need to stop dealing with people who either don’t have my best interests at heart or who only want me around for what I can do for them, or who just get a kick out of seeing me miserable.

Most importantly, it’s beyond time for me to accept defeat and put an end to my lifelong pointless attempt to meet a woman and fall in love. This exercise in futility was put to bed in 1996 but for some reason in 2005 I decided to try again and from 2005 through 2019 I have experienced one failure after another, in the worst-case scenarios I could have lost my life and in the best-case scenarios I suffered daily anxiety, and there is no way that’s the desired result in a relationship. The fact is, I’ve always known I was better off alone and now I am all in on that theory.

This is not a “you’ll meet the right woman someday” kind of thing, I have put that idea away a long time ago. I live in a low-population area and I’m not doing long distance, so I have exhausted all local options and am going to make a point of avoiding anything that may introduce anyone new into the equation. The only way I would even consider entering the dating pool again is if I move out of this God-forsaken area and have an entirely new demographic to work through.

Even then, I’ll be a bit standoffish, but I would definitely be a lot more open to “fate.”

Emotionally, a lot of these changes will help me eliminate the stress and anxiety I feel most days that I just try to suppress. The problem is, suppressing stress and anxiety is what got me into the physical wreck I am today. From 2010 to 2017 I put on almost 100 pounds, lost a lot of hair, suffered from stomach ulcers, lack of sleep, twitching eyes, a wrecked immune system and migraine headaches. As I eliminated the stress and anxiety, a lot of these things began to clear up. If I can eliminate all of them, I can begin to rebuild the wreckage that was once my body.

I have also been trying to “clean up my act” a bit on social networking. I am in the midst of a 30-day suspension on Facebook that could lead to a lifetime ban from what I have read and having my account permanently closed, due to memes I have posted that were considered “offensive.” This is borderline hilarious, due to the fact that one of the times I was sent to Facebook jail I reposted a meme I had posted one year previously and nothing was said about it. In fact, I have spent five hitches in Facebook jail in my life and all five were in 2019. In the previous 12 years, I had never been in Facebook jail. Once, I was accused of “posting spam,” which was actually White Sox news stories. I fought the law and I won, as my stories were returned to my wall and no action was taken. I can say 2019 was the worst year I ever spent on Facebook and I hope that will improve going forward, assuming I have a Facebook account to go back to in two weeks time.

I have cleaned up all the sexual posts, bad language posts and the kinds of things that make one look less intelligent or socially unacceptable. I also plan to ravage my friends list and remove people that shouldn’t be there, and I will be very discriminating going forward in terms of who is allowed into my circle. There will be a solid vetting process with who gets into my life.

So, if I can work myself back into shape, get the look I want, eliminate the stress and negativity and toxicity from my life, start learning again, accomplish what I want on MLB The Show (preferably) or NCAA Football, successfully end my dating life and make my social networking pages a reflection of the guy I actually am rather than the off-color comedian I had always wanted to be, I will consider 2020 to be a success. And I think if I accomplish even 10% of my goals, 2020 will be a major improvement over 2019 and a massive improvement over the rest of the 2010s.

I’m staking a claim on the 2020s as “my decade,” the one where I bring out the best in myself and allow God to put me where I should be rather than fighting tooth and nail to make bad decisions and put myself into problem areas that I should never have been involved with in the first place. I have the tools and the ability to make the best of this decade and I’ll do everything I can to accomplish that goal. I want to forget the 2010s ever happened and look strictly forward.

There is no reason I can’t be living my best life in 2020 and every year after that. Its just a matter of actually applying myself to the task at hand and doing it. There is nothing holding me back. If I were to fail, I have no one to blame but myself. But I’m going to do all I can to succeed.

Thank you for taking the time to read. Peace.

Escape From My Toxic Mental Prison

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In my previous blog entry, I discussed the fact that the decade of the 2010s was the worst of my life, by far. I also discussed how I had high hopes for the 2020s.

A major part of what I’m leaving behind in the 2010s and looking forward to in the 2020s is the escape from my toxic mental prison that the 2010s are responsible for.

The fact is, the vast majority of problems I mentioned in the previous blog were self-inflicted. I ended up in a toxic mental prison through my own stupid decisions. My inability to walk away from toxic situations rather than being inundated by them has been at the forefront of my problems for as long as I can remember. They have just gotten worse in the past 15 years and especially in the past nine years. That will be changing now.

I am trimming people out of my life at a rate I have never even come close to previously. Rather than letting other people dictate my life to me, I have become proactive in this area. I’m tired of putting myself second and always kowtowing to people who don’t deserve that kind of respect from me. I’m just tired of always feeling like I’m drowning.

I have even fought with myself about things I should have just let go.

I am making a point of removing any woman from my life who had any kind of romantic interest in me because no matter what the future does hold for me, a relationship will not be among them. There is no kind of toxicity worse than a relationship and I know that from every one I have ever been in, or ever considered or wanted. That’s not for me.

Furthermore, I am eliminating people who only have me around for their own selfish gain. This hitch in Facebook jail has shown me who is and is not a real friend. Some friends have reached out to me through other means (text message, Instagram, Twitter) while others have just sat and waited for my return. Others still have unfriended me.

Good riddance for good to that last group. Whoever they are, they need to stay away.

Basically, it’s time to strip away all the people in my life who are not White Sox networking friends, and my inner circle of one. I need to clear not only my life but my conscience as well. I need this for my mental health, my self-esteem and my will to live.

I’m so tired of living on pins and needles, worrying about what is going to befall me day after day. That doesn’t work for me. I’m tired of being upset, stressed and angry and rotating between those emotions. I’m ready to be happy, I think I have earned it.

In 17 days, I get out of Facebook jail and I will begin blocking people who have caused me to feel this toxicity. In 28 days, the calendar turns over to a new decade and it’s time to turn things around. The 2010s did a lot of damage and it’s time to clean up the mess.

Peace.

The 2010s: The Worst Decade Of My Life

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As we finish up 2019 I have gotten into a nostalgic mood (not that I’m ever in any other kind of mood) and have started talking stock of the past decade. As I am 42 years old, I have lived in 5 different decades, the 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, 2000s and 2010s. Naturally, I have no memories whatsoever of the 1970s, as my earliest defined memory would be my birthday in 1981, and my memories of it are foggy and disconnected, to say the least.

The 1980s, of course, were my “growing up” decade and I did love that era. The movies, the music, the cartoons, the toys, everything about the 1980s was incredible.

The 1990s, on the other hand, were my “grown up” decade. And still my favorite decade of my life. The 1990s began when I was in junior high, covered high school and college and really helped me to establish who I am today. The 1990s were the best.

The 2000s are kind of a mixed bag, and I would split it in half right down the middle. The first half, from 2000 to mid-2005, was great, right on par with the 1990s, or maybe just a notch below, but great, to say the least. The second half, from mid-2005 through 2009, was not. It was pretty unhappy. Not miserable, but a long way from pleasant. I have come to realize that my life took a nosedive after I began using the internet, which I started using in March 2005. At first I used it strictly for baseball info and downloading rosters, wallpapers and video game information. But once I started meeting people, it was all downhill.

That brings us to the 2010s. Without question, the worst decade of my life. Bar none. It’s not even close. The number of enjoyable things that happened to me in the 2010s I could probably count on one hand and have fingers left over. Truly the pits.

I was going to take a year-by-year look at the decade, but so many of the years run together because the misery stretched so far. I’m not saying it was a total loss, 2010 was the best year of the decade by far (until I hit November) and 2019 was a close second, but neither of those years would hold a candle to anything out of the 1980s or 1990s.

Being a generally happy guy, it’s difficult to look back and see how bad the 2010s really were, but there was nothing of any redeeming value in this decade for me. Oh, there were positives, don’t misunderstand. I’m not saying it was a 100% unsatisfactory decade, even in the worst years. But overall, I’d give the decade an “F” on a grading scale.

A warning in advance, most of this retrospective is going to be lacking in details. This is not because I can’t remember or because I don’t want to embarrass anyone. Quite the contrary, I choose to not remember some of the details because I don’t want to embarrass myself for having made such stupid decisions during this time period. So those details are lost to time.

The year 2010 opened with me in hot pursuit of a woman I had met on MySpace and within the first week I had completely blown that to kingdom come. The woman in question lived about an hour away and had four kids (which would break all kinds of rules I would set for myself later in the year) but she was beautiful and I really wanted to get with her. My refusal to sell out some friends of mine lead to our abrupt demise as a potential couple.

It turned out she was right in the long run, I should have eliminated those friends, both female. I ended up fooling around with one a couple of weeks later in spite of knowing that she was married. The other would cause me problems later in the year, but what’s done is (or was) done and I decided then that I was not going to get in a relationship in 2010. No matter who or what came along. As you’ll see, that wasn’t to be the case at all.

I started flying the flag of “social dating,” a concept I liked and a phrase I had coined at some point in the spring of 2010. Meet a girl, go out, have a nice time, go with the flow and let whatever happens happen, and then move onto the next one. Don’t date to find a relationship, date to have a good time. This was to take all the dramatics out of the equation because there would be no relationship and no one would “belong” to anyone else.

That all worked fine until June when I let a girl catch me who had chased me for around four years. She lived about an hour away and we only got to hang out together three times in the month that we were a couple, but even then I felt like I was a prisoner, I couldn’t do what I wanted, when I wanted, because there was someone else in the equation now. So I gave her an ultimatum in July, open relationship or no relationship and she chose none.

It was around this time that I created “the list,” which was a checklist of prerequisites for any woman I would take an interest in dating. This didn’t apply to hookups or one night stands, this was strictly related to being in an actual relationship. My rules list included no children, the woman in question would have to live within a certain distance, had to be financially secure on some level, have a working car, just something to kind of separate the garbage from the actual legitimate options. Not that it would matter in the long run.

In June I closed my MySpace account, which was jarring in many ways. A woman I had dated in the late 2000s once begged me to close our social media accounts and I told her, point blank, “I will never close my MySpace account.” Less than two years later, it was gone. I also opened a new Facebook account and kind of reorganized my life at that point.

The next three months were similar to the “social dating” era, and much happier for me.

Then, in November, I made the mistake that not only ruined the decade but nearly ruined my entire life. A mammoth mistake I will probably hold against myself forever. This mistake doesn’t need to be delved into, just suffice to say a situation was presented to me with a number of options and I made the worst possible choice and it has haunted me since.

While 2010 was a decent year, all things considered, 2011 was a bad year, though it was far from the worst. There were some good happenings, for instance I bought my first iPod in 2011, and a stereo with a docking station to go with it. I also found my backward-compatible PlayStation 3 which allowed me to play PlayStation 2 games on it, toward the end of 2011. So there were some good parts to 2011, I’ll admit.

On the flip side came 2012, probably the second-worst year of the decade for me.

A near-mistake in August 2012 could have been the fatal mistake of my life, but God was looking out for me and thanks to luck or karma or something, that mistake didn’t happen. And by December, I had actually managed to work myself out of the mistake I had made in November 2010. Things were starting to look up, and I started feeling happy again.

As 2013 turned over, though, things took a drastic turn for the worse before January was over. I allowed myself to get talked into the same bad mistake I had made in November 2010. Only this time, it was going to be even worse and my life was at stake this time.

February 2013. I was told I was going to be a father. I had my doubts, given circumstances surrounding the pregnancy and whom I was dealing with, that lasted the duration of the pregnancy. But would certainly come to question it more extensively in later years.

In May 2013, my tabby cat, Bubbles, passed away. My plan had always been to string myself up when he passed so that we could both be cremated and our ashes preserved together. But now that I had a child on the way, that took the steam out of my demise.

Bubbles was 18 years old, and he passed when I was 36, meaning he was part of half of my life. For a good portion of that time, he was all that I had. I loved him unconditionally. And when he passed, and I needed, for once in my life, some emotional support, I got it from my best friend. A big part of me died along with Bubbles that day. Maybe all of me should have.

My son was born on October 22, 2013, and I had no doubt he was mine, based on comparisons of his baby picture to mine and the bond began to form, but I still ordered an online DNA test, I would swab my mouth as well as the baby’s and then we would send the swabs to the lab and the results would be mailed to us in a matter of weeks.

I had not signed his birth certificate, not because I had doubts to that extent at that time, but because I was deathly sick at the time. I had pneumonia and a temperature that reached 103 degrees. I was told I couldn’t be near him with a fever like that and I was mostly bedridden anyway, weak and going between extreme sweats and freezing to death.

The DNA test results arrived several weeks later in the mail, and I was not on hand for the opening of the envelope, I simply received a text message with a picture of the supposed “results” that could have been doctored in any number of ways, and this was supposed to prove something, which it didn’t. It just furthered my distrust for the whole situation.

The next four years (2014-17) kind of blur together. I loved my son and felt a feeling I had only felt for Bubbles previously, that of complete, unconditional love. He was daddy’s boy, if his mom was going somewhere and I was staying home, he wanted to stay with me. If I was leaving and his mom was staying home, “I go with my dad.” We had a bond I wish my dad had felt with me. I introduced him to things kids his age would never have been aware of because I grew up with them, like Pac-Man and Q-Bert. I bought him a PlayStation 4, and gave him a PlayStation 3 so we could play Ghostbusters and Lego Batman games.

My son was, by far, the best part of the decade of the 2010s. I just wanted to take him away from the people he was with and bring him to my house, where he belonged. His birthright. I never lived with his mother, and would have rather died first and nearly did. I just wanted my son, to make sure he was raised in a good home and wanted for nothing. That was all I ever wanted. I definitely did not, in any way, want anything to do with anyone else connected to the situation and, in fact, wanted away from them as quickly as it could be arranged.

In 2014, I bought my first flatscreen HDTV. By 2016, I had populated my house with them. In 2015, I bought my PlayStation 4, because I was afraid the MLB The Show series was going to be PS4 exclusive. I was a year or two off, but glad I went ahead and upgraded.

One of the biggest happenings for me in the 2010s came in late 2014, when AC/DC released a new album, “Rock Or Bust,” their first studio album since 2008. Definite high point at a time when high points were so few and far between that I was almost devoid of feelings.

My Jeep was involved in an accident in 2015, as I was driving a back road some punk kid in a sports car hit me head on and totaled my Jeep, which I had since 2001. I took the insurance settlement and had the Jeep repaired because my mission was to put 250,000 miles on it and at that point I was about 20,000 miles short and I wasn’t giving up that easily.

My mom had a heart attack on November 5, 2015. She was getting ready to go to a hair appointment and she ended up flat on her back in her recliner and my dad took her to the emergency room. A couple of hours later I got a phone call, that she had a heart attack. She was in the hospital for a little over a week and while she was in there, it was discovered that she had a cancerous lesion on her colon, so after a few weeks at home to recover from the heart attack (and subsequent insertion of stents) she was back in the hospital again for the removal of a couple of feet of colon that included the cancerous area.

My mom was always very youthful in spite of her age (she was 44 when I was born) and I can remember back in the late 1990s and early 2000s taking her to the grocery store and to places like Walmart, Ames and Kmart. At the time, Ames had a special on Tuesday’s, anyone over 55 got 10% off their purchases. Mom was routinely carded because even though she was pushing 65, she didn’t look it. I can honestly say she has aged 30 years in the past five, and her mental capacity has dropped beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

By 2017 my misery was overcoming the good in my life. I sat in my room one night in April and stared at 60 “ZzzQuil” sleeping capsules and a full bottle of Jack Daniel’s whiskey. I worked through the pros and cons of death. Physically and emotionally and mentally I was a mess. My hair was falling out, I had stomach ulcers, I couldn’t sleep, I was stress eating and had gained 80 pounds in about three years, my eyes were constantly twitching, I was sick almost all the time due to my immune system not firing on all cylinders, and finally I was diagnosed with migraine headaches. That was it.

My love for my son turned out to be stronger than my longing for the grave, thank God.

Malcolm Young, rhythm guitarist of AC/DC and my favorite band for decades, passed away in November 2017, casting more of a shadow on an already awful and miserable year.

I struggled through the summer and fall of 2017, trying to find a way out. One was found for me. And it presented me with the most difficult situation I would face the entire decade.

An attempt was made to file charges against me in December 2017 that could have lead to a lengthy prison sentence. And I fought those false charges tooth and nail, no matter what was thrown at me. For the better part of a month I didn’t know if I would live to see another sunrise. But I was not going to be beaten, and in the end, I was cleared of all charges. But the decision to not sign my son’s birth certificate came back to bite me at this point, as in family court, in January 2018, the judge announced that there would need to be a DNA test (an “official” one administered by the state) and a parenting plan for my son.

This didn’t happen, no paternity test was ever done. That spoke volumes, all I needed to know. My questions about the eagerness to open the 2013 DNA test without me there to see it and quickly sweep that under the rug suddenly made a lot of sense to me. So, I had lost my son, or what I was told and thought to be my son. I couldn’t do anything, I had no parental rights whatsoever since I hadn’t signed the birth certificate.

At worst, I had lost my boy. At best, I was out of a miserable, deadly situation I never should have been in to begin with, had I just used common sense way back in November 2010.

I took advantage of my newfound freedom in 2018 and tried to do a complete life overhaul. New TVs, new stereos, a new PC, a new cell phone, I upgraded everything I could think of, right down to a brand-new desk chair and recliner and stand for my new TV. I did not, however, do as I had in 2012 and start new social networking sites. I wish I had. I met a number of women in 2018, all of whom would show themselves to be flakes or liars or something almost as low as the garbage I had left in my rear-view mirror. But not quite. I was ghosted or lied to or lead on by a number of women and finally just stopped altogether, I decided in November 2018 that I was not going to date anyone for at least one year.

While discussing it, I told a friend that 2018 was no better than 2017 or 2016 or 2015, it just had a different cast of characters in it. And I knew that needed to change in 2019.

I made the final major change of my life this year, I bought a new Jeep. I sent my old one to the scrapheap 18 years after buying it and with almost 257,000 miles on it. My new Jeep is an upgrade in every way, and a good symbol of where I want things to go in the future.

While 2019 has been far superior to every year back to 2010, it has still been a clusterfuck in many ways and I’ll be glad to see it, and this decade, come to an end. I hate it.

In 2019, I was placed in Facebook jail four times for mundane memes I posted and am now locked out until December 18. None would have been found to be “offensive” in any other medium short of a church bulletin, but that doesn’t matter. This put a major roadblock in front of my decision to start all new social networking pages. I still may do that, in fact, I would like to start a new Facebook account and simply update the screen name and URL of my other social networking accounts. The problem comes in here, with my blog, which uses the JasonConnor612 URL, which I also use on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, etc.

So, as I close up the final five weeks of 2019, I have high hopes for the 2020s. There will clearly be some bad times coming up, I don’t see any way my elderly mother (or father, for that matter) will live through the next decade, as my mother is 85 (86 in January) and my father is 81 (82 in September). That’s just something I’ll have to deal with when the time comes and I’m hopeful I have the good fortune to live to a ripe old age as well. But I’m hopeful the good times in the 2020s will outweigh the bad, unlike the horrible 2010s.

I always try to see the positive side of things, and in this case the only positive I can come up with is I’ve almost lived through the 2010s, in spite of twice pondering suicide and dealing with health problems brought on by stress that could have easily killed me. I always say that everything happens for a reason, and I’m still standing today for a reason I don’t know.

In closing, here’s to a bright and happy future and a whole new era in my life. God bless.

 

Facebook: Where Common Sense Goes To Die

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One week ago tomorrow (November 18), I was put in Facebook jail for the fourth time this year, over a meme that was not the least bit offensive to anyone but someone took the opportunity to report it and based on that, I was back in the clink.

This is the meme that “earned” me 30 days:

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That meme was so offensive to someone that it was worth 30 days in Facebook jail. I can only imagine what kind of gutless, worthless, sorry-excuse-for-a-human-being was offended by something like that. But it was through this that I discovered something.

In the world today, your post doesn’t have to actually be offensive, if someone just doesn’t like it, they can simply say that they are offended and heads will roll.

In Facebook land, your first offense leads to a warning, second is 24 hours in the can, third is 3 days, fourth is a week and fifth is a month. Beyond that, I’m not sure, as I have heard conflicting reports, some say 60 days and some have said a lifetime ban.

On that note, here are a few of the other memes I have posted that were considered so vile they were worthy of putting me in Facebook jail over. Pure and total filth:

So, yeah. Those memes were so over-the-top offensive that I may sit one bad meme away from a lifetime ban despite the fact that in the previous six years I posted numerous memes (including the bacon one, which had been posted on my own wall several years ago) and had never once received a stretch in Facebook jail. But I’m more philosophical about things now than I have been in the past. Jail will do that to a man, even Facebook jail.

As I said earlier, as long as someone announces that they are offended, that’s all it takes for Facebook to drop the hammer. The bacon post? All it takes is for some muslim to say “I don’t like bacon, it offends me” and it’s Facebook jail time. I do admit that I’m curious as to whether or not a straight, white, native-born, employed male like myself would be able to get anything blocked due to being offended, though, given the state of the world.

What amazes me more than what I have posted being considered so vulgar it was worth Facebook jail time is the stuff I have seen that never gets reported. Full-on nudity, Full-on pornographic images, video of legitimate suicide by rifle shot, clear threats of violence and racism on every level against every imaginable race. And who can forget the wave of political nonsense that has to be the most disgraceful thing I have ever seen.

That’s all fine, none of that is anything to worry about. Perfectly acceptable. Guy blows his head off in a posted video? No problem. Man beheaded by radical muslim terrorists? That’s probably a free-speech issue. Calling people every name in the book and threatening physical harm because you are a member of an American political party? Nothing to see here. Jason J. Connor post a meme about people being butt-hurt?

Now that’s something Facebook would apparently go to war over. And that is pathetic. So while I do feel I was treated unfairly, taking me out of the opportunity to talk baseball with my Facebook friends during the most important period of the offseason (the GM Meetings are the first week of December, I am not paroled until December 18) I also feel that Facebook should feel just as stupid as they look and I am all too happy to share my story.

Perhaps someday, someone will be offended just by the very existence of Facebook, and they’ll have to decide if they should take the entire site offline for an extended period, after all, we can’t have anyone getting offended by anything, no matter how mundane.

Keep fighting the good fight, Facebook. You’ve now got the John Dillinger of social media in Facebook jail for 30 days. I bet the world feels a little safer right now than it did before. You just never know when someone may become offended and that’s just too scary to contemplate. Congratulations, Facebook. Never stop fighting for what’s right.

Oh, and up yours.

Peace.

Facebook …And Justice For All

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Well, here we go again. Back in the slammer for the second time in three weeks.

I have been suspended by Facebook again, this time for promoting “hate speech” with a meme I posted. As I mentioned in my previous post, I was going to start posting more mundane memes, which would keep me out of trouble. No more risque, barely-clothed women. Just funny, G-rated pics.

So, early Saturday afternoon, I posted this meme, part of a group I posted:

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Yes, that meme got me another seven-day hitch in Facebook Penitentiary. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. To say I was dismayed would be a bigger understatement.

“Hate speech.”

Just today, I saw a meme that featured a wet cell phone in a bowl of rice that basically said you put your phone in rice because during the night the rice will draw Asians to your phone and they’ll fix it. Nothing like some good ol’ American racism that gets by without a glance while I’m in FB Jail.

This frustrated me so badly I attempted to start a new Facebook account this weekend. The upshot of that is that Facebook apparently saw I was trying to circumvent the system and put their best detectives on the case. They asked that I supply a cell number for the account, and said mine was not “valid,” and neither was my mom’s, despite the fact that we both have perfectly-functioning cell phones.

I got a fake number from a texting app and used that number to get into my new account. I was then asked to provide a photo of myself to verify myself. I did, and sure enough, my account was immediately closed. I wasn’t going to catch those bumbling fools napping, and they put me right back in the clink.

But still, “hate speech.”

Toward whom? Is saying that women “look good, smell good and taste good” promoting hate toward women? Was it the fact that the meme featured a photo of bacon frying and I was promoting hate toward towelheads? Because if you want hate speech about muslims, you came to the right place. But that’s neither here nor there and I have no desire to start a holy war with those animals.

But I digress.

I don’t ask to be treated any differently than anyone else. And while I was legitimately screwed the last time this happened (and I think all four times I have been sent to the FB Penitentiary I didn’t deserve it) but the fact is I keep seeing way worse on my newsfeed and I have no idea how that stuff passes and my memes don’t. Because my memes are funny 100% of the time and I’m not one for starting trouble or posting anything that could be considered actual “hate speech” or any variation thereof.

So, now I am going to break it down even finer, I won’t be posting memes that mention women, relationships, love, divorce, dating or anything of the kind. It is clearly too controversial. I’ll stick to memes about cats, sports, food, history and pop culture while continuing to post my regular Chicago White Sox news and pics of my cigar selections when I have an opportunity to smoke. Other than that, I am keeping everything else off-limits. I figure this may make me look less like a perverted animal anyway, because any time an attractive, unclothed woman is posted, I seem to get tagged by someone.

Yes, I love women. There is nothing on this earth more perfect than the human female. Nothing more beautiful. But that will have to be celebrated by other people in other places, because I’m done.

I keep thinking someone on my friends list is a snitch and that’s why I’m here for the second time in 21 days, but the fact remains that Facebook did a review on my “bacon” post and did, in fact, verify that it was tantamount to “hate speech,” so this falls at the feet of Facebook, who could have corrected this injustice but instead decided to sit on their hands until they saw I might be starting a new profile.

So, well played, Facebook. You got a desperate, despicable heathen off your site for seven days. Good job. I hope everything is much safer there while I’m gone. I hope it’s a new Garden of Eden.

And I’ll be back. Even more impotent than last time. I’ve spent the past 15 years of my life letting people destroy my happiness and making me miserable. And it just keeps going on, ad infinitum. But that is my burden to bear and I’ll make the best of it. And just keep doing what I do best.

Peace.