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.

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.

 

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.

Facebook: Where Justice Goes Out The Window

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I have had a Facebook account, in one way or another, for over 12 years.

My first account was open from the summer of 2007 until June of 2010. I opened a new one then and kept it open until December 2012. I opened the current account I have then and have been using it ever since, though I have wished I had started a new one on a number of occasions. I usually opened a new account when I wanted to erase my past.

From the summer of 2007 until the fall of 2018, I never had my account blocked once due to anything I had posted. In the past nine months, I have been blocked three times. But there’s more to the story than “Jason violated Facebook terms and conditions.”

In 2018, I twice posted memes that were, indeed, tasteless, but they featured no nudity or anything of a sexual context whatsoever, but I didn’t fight it because I figured that someone, somewhere, could have been offended and I made a point of not posting memes or jokes that fell into that area just to save face and not get blocked again.

Monday morning, I posted a meme. This meme:

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This meme earned an immediate seven-day ban due to “nudity.” As you can clearly see, there is no nudity in this meme whatsoever. This time I could not let this stand, so I asked for a review, assuming they would see their mistake and the meme would be restored and I would not remain blocked, which any clear-thinking person would feel the same way.

I received the following response from Facebook in my notifications:

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They are quite explicit in announcing that they were wrong and my meme did not violate community standards. So what is the point of this blog, you may be wondering…

I am still blocked for seven days.

Yes, I was blocked due to a violation that Facebook clearly states was NOT a violation, yet I remain blocked for the full term I would have received under a violation. I likened this to being on trial for murder, and the supposed victim walks into the courtroom, proving beyond doubt that the accused is innocent, yet the judge goes ahead and convicts the accused of murder and sentences him to life in prison. Just because, with no explanation.

I attempted to contact Facebook on three occasions following this miscarriage of justice and my messages remain unread, and nothing has changed. Yet within an hour they were able to verify that my post was not a violation, and within 60 seconds of posting the meme it was flagged. It seems they are quick on the condemnation trigger and very slow at correcting the wrongs they have committed. And this situation is completely over the top.

This has been the cherry on one of the worst weeks of my life. I don’t want to get into specifics on that, it’s all first-world problems. But this has been the flash-point that has put me into one of the lowest moods I’ve ever been in. As a lot of people know, in December 2017, I was accused of something I did not do and was almost dropped into the legal system before the truth came out and I was cleared. I almost feel like I’m suffering from PTSD from going through another situation where I am being punished for something I didn’t do, being blocked on Facebook for a meme that didn’t violate terms of service.

I have spent a lot of time looking back at my life from 1996 to 2005 and remembering how happy I was not having social networking and I’m really wondering if it wouldn’t be in my best interest to just delete Facebook and start my life with a clean slate.

I remain blocked until Monday morning. The next time I get blocked (and I’m sure I will because if I can be even though I haven’t violated any rules, obviously I don’t need to commit a violation in order to get blocked again) will be for 30 days, and once that happens there is no question whatsoever that I will be finished with Facebook for good.

Be vigilant out there, kids. It is very possible that you can get taken down and punished even though you haven’t done anything wrong. I have lived it twice in a year and a half, and that is two more times than anyone should have to deal with it.

Thank you for taking the time to read. Peace.

UPDATE

I write this blog update roughly 15 hours before my seven-day Facebook suspension ends. As I mentioned previously, I had contacted Facebook and attempted to let them know that my suspension was in error, but nearly seven days after I sent in that report, my message remains “submitted” and never “read.”

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I also learned that Facebook has a rather, shall we say, “unique” way of dealing with those of us who have been blocked and attempt to rectify the situation via the links included on the site that were put in place specifically for that purpose: The links do not work if you are blocked. That’s the most Nazi thing I have ever seen.

A link is provided to blocked users to “report” that they have been blocked without proper reason, yet that link leads only to an error message. However, I subsequently learned, using a fake account, that you can click on that link from a blocked account and as long as it opens in a browser that Facebook has been signed into through a non-blocked account, the link will work. It’s simply disabled for blocked users.

The same type of “glitch” works in Facebook Messenger, as well.

The bottom line with all of this is, to quote legendary wrestling manager Jim Cornette, “a God damn bunch of bullshit.” And due to this, I will be drastically altering how I use Facebook. Rather than being the guy who you can count on for memes or pics of beautiful women in as little clothing as Facebook allows, I’ll be sticking strictly to White Sox news and results and memes that have been Sesame Street approved.

Your move, Facebook.

 

 

RANDOM THOUGHTS

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Just some random thoughts that are floating in my brain at the moment, since I have been neglecting my blogging duties.

– I did not watch the MLB Home Run Derby last night nor am I watching the MLB All Star Game tonight. I don’t know if it’s burnout or if I am just past the point of caring about games that have no meaning. I think it’s more burnout than anything. Since 2004, when I went hardcore back into baseball and stopped watching all other sports, I have watched roughly 3,000 baseball games. So there is probably something to be said for burnout at this point. So I’m taking these four days off.

– Part of me wants to start watching college sports again and start following UCLA extensively. And the other part of me says I’m 42 and it’s time to leave that behind me. I’ll continue to debate on this with myself.

– I’ve never seen so many people getting into relationships (as per Facebook) as I have in the past two weeks or so. It makes me smile and it makes me happy that people are out there finding something special. I’ve always said, if the world’s population could just double up and I were the odd man out, I’d still be happy just to know everyone else in the world was happy. Maybe that’s happening now.

– In the next step of getting my life back together, I bought a new grill and grilling accessories tonight and am looking very much forward to their delivery. I love to cook and I love to grill and it’s been a long time since I had a bed of hot briquettes waiting for me to throw a steak or a burger on. It’s time.

– If I don’t do something to make myself remember to make an appointment with my optometrist TOMORROW I am going to be walking around blind very soon. I have been on my last pair of contacts for over a week.

– I’m dying to play the Batman Arkham video game series again but I feel like I need to wait until fall, not only because baseball is over but because it’s tradition to start around October. I always went into a Batman frenzy around Halloween and even though I won’t be doing that anymore, it would still be fun to play the games.

– I am SO ready to start exercising full time again, between the herniated disc in my back and my heel spur, I have been in agony pretty much 24 hours a day. I am also sick to death of being 80 pounds overweight.

– Stella, I’m still alive, honey. 😉

Letting Go Of The Illusions Of The Past…

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Anyone who knows me has no doubt become annoyed at one time or another as I have reminisced on the happiness I had in 1995. It was truly an amazing year. For Easter, my girlfriend at the time presented me with the love of my life, my tabby cat, Bubbles, who passed away in 2013. I graduated from high school and started to college. I reintroduced myself to some of the classic TV programs I had enjoyed in my youth (particularly Three’s Company and Perry Mason).

I also began my lifelong love of sports simulation video gaming. Something that didn’t exist at the time but that like-minded people helped to bring to fruition in the following years. I also began my love of UCLA athletics. This actually started when I picked the Bruins to win the 1995 men’s basketball tournament in the pool at school, and they did, the first time in my life a team that I followed one any kind of championship. The UCLA baseball team would follow suit in 2013.

But when you brush away all the fluff, 1995 wasn’t the best year ever. By a long shot. There were still a multitude of annoyances. A relationship I was quickly growing tired of, that engulfed all my spare time and left me with little opportunity to enjoy any of my growing pursuits.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, since next year will mark 25 years since my most “incredible” year. And today I realized, I have had at least three better years than 1995; the earliest being 1982, followed by 2010, and amazingly, 2019, which may be the best year of all.

I started Kindergarten in 1982. My obsessions at that time were the Lone Ranger and the Dukes Of Hazzard. I would soon be introduced to Masters Of The Universe. It was a great time to be a kid. And I remember few moments of unhappiness. My uncle committed suicide that year, but at five years old, who has a grasp on the concept of death? I do remember sitting on his front porch, trying to play his fiddle as I saw the musicians do on Hee Haw every Saturday night.

My family took our first vacation in 1982, to New Mexico and the surrounding area. I remember it, but not clearly. Obviously there were more important things going on then.

To compare 1995 and 1982 is a bit like comparing apples and oranges, but taken in the right context, there really is no comparison for me. No doubt, 1982 was the better year.

The same applies to 2010. I had become a single man in November 2009 after a rather annoying three-and-a-half year relationship that was ill-conceived and ill-advised. I would spend a full year single, 375 days to be exact, minus a six-week period where I was in a “Facebook official” relationship that was anything but real. I had an amazing time and really started to grasp what it meant to live. I had good years prior to that (2000-04 were absolutely incredible and maybe equal to 2010, but included more minor aggravations) but 2010 was the closest thing to perfect.

Until now.

Today I elected to take stock of things and I realized that this is, without question, the golden year of my life. I should be happy beyond description. I have everything I could possibly ever want. In 1982, I had a 19” tabletop TV, a ColecoVision video game console and a small, handheld cassette player with three blank cassettes. The VCR hadn’t made it’s way into my world yet.

In 1995, things had expanded dramatically. I had a 25” TV, VCR, Nintendo Entertainment System, a 200-watt stereo with dual cassette deck and a Sony Walkman plugged into the auxiliary jack. I was videotaping Three’s Company and Perry Mason from TV and watching them at my leisure. At that time, it felt like I had it all and I had no idea what the future would bring.

Now it’s 2019. I have a 55” Samsung Smart TV, a DVD recorder, a PlayStation 3 and 4, a Retron 5 (which plays a multitude of old video game cartridges), a 400-watt stereo with a 5-CD changer, an incredible PC I built myself, a Samsung Galaxy S8, more DVDs and CDs than I could ever watch or listen to for the rest of my life, and enough money to have anything I want.

Even though that’s the case, I still find myself dreaming back to 1995. And I can’t stand it. The problem with me is, when I’m unhappy, I try to wish myself away to happier times. But when I’m in happy times, I do the same thing. I can remember back in 1995 reminiscing about happier days, 1982 and 1985 and 1989. Then by the time I got to the early 2000s, I was pissing that time away wishing back to 1995. And here I am, in my happiest period, still wishing the same.

In 1995, I didn’t have the luxury of pulling up any TV show in the world and watching it at any time I wanted, only the ones I had managed to tape from TV and even then, I had to wait to tape them day by day, because the concept of just buying a season or complete series of a TV show was non-existent. Cell phone? Nope. And the concept of a smart phone wasn’t even close. Back then I was at the mercy of whatever baseball game happened to be on at the time. Now I just turn on the MLB app on my Smart TV and watch the White Sox game when it’s on.

This is, literally, my time. Everything is in front of me. As happy as I have been in the past, in 2010 or 2002 or 1995 or 1989 or 1982, this should be putting all of those years past to shame. But I keep trying to sabotage myself, either through constant reminiscing of year’s past or trying to do stupid things to wreck the current wavelength I am living on, like introducing women into the fold. No woman has ever brought anything but misery and unhappiness into my life, yet I kept remaining open to allowing more and more of them into my life. Why I keep doing this is beyond my comprehension.

Some have said it’s just a part of my life that’s missing. I disagree. From 1996 to 2005, I was single. I spent nine glorious years as a single man. And that’s what 1982, 2010 and 2019 all have in common, there is no woman taking over my life and making it unhappy and dramatic and boring and miserable. That’s how 2010 came to a grinding halt, I allowed a bottom-of-the-trash-can greaseball to come into the picture and it was almost instant misery for the seven years that followed.

So why would I be stupid enough to even consider allowing that to happen again?

I am NOT a good fit for relationships. For one thing, I am extremely selfish and protective of my time. I have things I want to do and one of those things is watching White Sox baseball, a privilege for which I pay money. If I am doing so, that is going to take precedence over other less-important things, like whatever some girl wants to do. I also enjoy spending my money on me for a change, so I have spoiled myself to the ultimate degree. Not just the smartphone and stereo and TV and game consoles and DVDs but all the other little purchases that make my day seem a little happier.

And then I realized just how much women can negatively affect my life, as this past Friday I allowed a female to corrupt my schedule, missing Friday night’s White Sox game to watch a movie. It took me three days to get myself back into my groove, and to what end? What was the point of spending my Friday night doing anything other than what I want to spend my Friday night doing?

Now, understand, I’m not saying I am 100% anti-woman, if I ever met a woman who enjoyed baseball and video games and Star Trek who cooks like Nigella Lawson and is built like Raine Michaels I might give it a go. But until that time, why should I sell myself on millimeter short?

I have taken great pains in the past week or so to detach myself from anyone who brings anything but happiness into my life. This has included pretty much every local single woman in my area. Whether they had an interest in me or not (not in 96% of the cases) didn’t matter. I needed to build a wall and they needed to be on the other side of it. I have changed my Facebook settings so I am almost unreachable unless you are a Facebook friend or you know my cell phone number.

And even those who I know had it are finding themselves blocked and unable to use it.

I just can’t let this time period be corrupted. This is MY time. This is my golden hour. This is the point in time that my whole life has been focused on. When all the parts come together and make a complete picture, this is it. I will not do anything to ruin it, and that includes spending it reminiscing about times in the past that don’t hold a candle to what I have right here in front of me.

From this day forward, and maybe through the end of my life, it’s all about me. I cannot have it any other way. I nearly ruined my life a number of times, and I managed to extricate myself from those dilemmas and reach the point I am at now. And I am going to make the most of every second. Everyone deserves to be happy. And now, finally, it is my turn. It’s all about me.

Thank you for taking the time to read. Peace.