It’s Not Called “Hot August Nights” For Nothing

That’s what I’m talking about.

God, I hate social media sometimes, I really do.

The longer I’m on there, the more bullshit I see.

Guys are truly afraid of their own shadows, and the women, the women are tired. Tired of men not being men.

Tired of men not having the balls to go after what they want, unapologetically. Guys willing to put it all on the line. Guys doing “sneaky fucker game.”

The latest “challenge” issued by another dipshit on Twitter was along the lines of: “Don’t fuck, don’t drink, eat right, meditate.”

Fuck me running. What happened to fucking until you couldn’t fuck anymore? What happened to road beers and drinking almost to the point of blackout? What happened to eating the good food? What happened to testing your limits and seeing what would happen? What happened to possibly being rejected? What happened to living?

What happened to having some fucking fun for once in your fucking life?

I’m so tired of the puritanism that masquerades as “Masculinity.” This new “Masculinity” is set up to have you in chains. You see this, right? It’s either a woman calling the shots, saying what is “proper” or “good,” or it’s some Jesus freak telling you the same thing. All the “retain your semen/abstinence” shit is just a front for religion. Ask me how I know.

Do you really want to live in chains? Do you really want a life of slavery? It’s time for you to decide what works for you.

Asceticism might be your thing, except I know it’s not, not really. You really want to live an ascetic lifestyle? Okay, give up everything except the clothes on your back. Go be homeless and live on the concrete with nothing. That’s asceticism. Otherwise you’re LARPing.

Why self-deny? Why bother? Because some random asshole on the internet said so? Really?Who the hell is that guy? Who the hell is that woman? Nobody. That’s who. I mean, if you want to live a life of self-denial, fill your boots. You do you, bro. But I can’t imagine for one moment why I would want to do that.

I grew up with everyone around me telling me that I should deny myself…Everything. Sacrifice it all in the name of “Being a Man.” Sacrifice it all in the name of “The Greater Good.” Deny it all in the name of God, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost. Do you know who got the short end of the stick? Me, that’s who.

Fuck it. I was done with all of that bullshit a while ago. “Sacrifice” my ass. Been there, done that. No thank you. I’ll do what I want and what I want is to pursue pleasure. So that’s what I’m doing. Do you know what? Life is pretty fucking good for me.

You can either live in chains or you can throw them off and do what you want. The choice is always yours.

All the women I have met in the last few years, all of the food I have eaten, all of the drinks I have drank, all of the experiences I have had, I regret nothing. Not all of the experiences have been positive, and still, I regret nothing.

Experience. That is what I choose. Pleasure. That is what I choose. Retaining bodily fluids? No thanks. Sitting around reading another book written by yet another asshole? No thanks. Watching another video on YouTube? No thanks.

I choose to live my life eyeballs deep in it. Go out and live. Try shit out and fuck it up. Seek pleasure. Take your own counsel. You know you the best compared to some fucking life coach. You only get one shot, fucking take it. Life ends sooner than you think.

3 thoughts on “It’s Not Called “Hot August Nights” For Nothing

  1. I follow your commentary about not regretting certain experiences. But I wanted to add a sitcom level funny for you.

    (1) I don’t regret anything I ate, except that one time I had pizza at Coal’s. I ended up with food poisoning the next morning, ran like a jackass looking for a decent place to hurl.

    (2) I never regretted eating Bill Cosby’s Ben and Jerry ice cream with my hands in 100 degree weather. It was hot as fuck and I skipped out of work. Life was stupid and brilliant. I had little to no fucks to give.

    Continue on and “keep’er sleezy” in Utah!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. The only thing I regret is listening to what everyone else said I was supposed to do and how I was supposed to be. We’re about the same age and it sounds like we heard the same things. Neither me nor my wife were happy living someone else’s version of life. When I learned to say fuck it, I became much happier. As did she. Now when I bitch about all the time I’ve wasted in my life, my wife reminds me that instead of looking back we should be making up for lost time. Something to be said for a partner in crime. Great post Rob.

    Liked by 1 person

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