A Case Of “The One”

adult blur bokeh bright

“Stanley” is another co-worker of mine. He’s a fairly young man, around the age of 27 or 28. He’s not originally from Utah and at least as long as I have known him, he’s been morbidly obese.

Stanley had gastric bypass surgery not too long ago, within the last 6 months and he’s losing a lot of weight and he’s beginning to look good. Stanley is also a guy that if I had to guess, has never had sex with a woman. He just gives off that “vibe.” He’s more of the guy that likes to play his video games and hang out with his buds.

Stanley made an announcement at work the other day. He’s moving on. He’s moving to Arizona.  That’s all he said to the majority of us. I found out his reasons as to why he’s moving though. It’s because of a girl.

Apparently Stanley has had some sort of “long distance” relationship with this woman. He’s known her for at least six years, or maybe it’s eight years. The time that he’s known her is a little “fluid,” if you get what I mean.

From what I gather, she’s a “good girl,” she goes to church, which is where and how they met those six or eight long years ago. According to Stanley, he’s found his “One.” He’s ready to uproot his life, his job, where he lives, and run off into the desert of Arizona to be with her.

On one hand, he’s pulling a “Go Big or Go Home” move, which I can appreciate. I don’t know if the guy really knows what he wants, I highly doubt it given what he’s doing, but hey, his determination is there and I can admire that.

The fact that he’s willing to literally give up and trade in his entire life over a woman is the part that has me shaking my head. In some ways, I literally don’t have the words. I don’t have the words for Stanley at least. The guy isn’t just setting himself on fire, he’s self-immolating. This is taking it to an extreme. There is literally nothing I can do for him. He truly gets to burn.

He’s leaving in a few days to go to Arizona to make arrangements for his move in a couple of months. All I can do is shake my head and wave goodbye.

Goodbye Stanley, and godspeed. I hope things work out for you with your “One” and that you live happily-ever-after with her. May you truly find whatever it is that you are looking for. Amen.

No point in trying to talk to him, he’s made up his mind. Last rites commence.

For you guys reading this, I wish this was a work of fiction, some fantastical bullshit that I pulled out of my ass, but it’s not. It’s a true story.

I’ve mentioned guys in the past doing stupid shit and doing some really dumb things, but this one has to be maybe one of the worst. This is a guy who is gambling his future away on a “possibility.” A possibility of love and of sex. Because that’s what this is really about.

Desperation and thirst.

You want to run off and fuck strange pussy in another state? Fine. Do that. I’ve done it and I have no regrets. But you don’t uproot your life, quit your job, and move for that pussy. Go and have an adventure but don’t change your life for it.

Maybe I’m truly an anomaly. Or maybe I’ve had some common sense, a sense of self preservation, and at least a modicum of self esteem that would scream at me, “Dude! What the fuck are you doing? Don’t fucking do that!” to even entertain an idea of what Stanley is doing.

My father will be 70 years old in April. He was with my mother for almost 50 years total by the time she died. He’s now dating another woman and will probably be with her until he dies or until she kicks his ass to the curb, which ever comes first. He has never heard of the Red Pill, and has no idea about it or my involvement with other men in it. He’s very blue pilled when it comes to women, their nature, and relationships, but even he has a modicum of self preservation and self respect.

My father’s girlfriend suggested a little while ago for him to sell his house and then they would use the proceeds of that sale and buy a house in Mesquite, Arizona and live there in the winter and then live in her home in the summer.

My father’s exact words were, “You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’m going to sell my house. Why don’t you sell yours? What happens to me if our relationship goes south and you give me the boot?”

Even my Boomer Dad, who’s pretty much computer illiterate and doesn’t really understand women’s natures, understands enough to know that you don’t gamble your whole life away on the prospect of pussy.

Guys, if you have done something like this, like what Stanley is doing, or if you are seriously considering doing it, I can’t help you. No one can. You are truly on your one when it comes to this one. You really get to burn.

Godspeed, good luck and all of that. Amen and goodbye.

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The Red Pill Ruined My Metal

guitarist of greyscale photo

I was a kid back in the ’80’s when I first got introduced to heavy metal/hard rock. My first heavy metal/hard rock album was Ozzy Osbourne’s “Bark At The Moon.” That was followed up soon after by Twisted Sister’s “Stay Hungry,” and Quiet Riot’s “Metal Health.” It was all downhill from there.

I’m sitting here, listening to Rainbow’s “Stone Cold” as I’m typing this. Goddamn you Red Pill, you ruined my fucking music. Yes, it’s sorta whiny. Yes, it’s sorta pedestalizing women. Oneitis is rampant in this song.

I can hear the dickhead’s on Twitter right now:

“LOOOOOOL!!!!! You fucken blue pill beta chump Ya lost ya framez pleighboi looser! Da joose iznt werth da sqeeuze dumass!!!! Pansy poosie!”

(Why is it you dumbasses don’t know how to spell “loser?” One “o” not two. If you are going to mock and ridicule me, that’s fine, but could you fucking learn how to spell? Is that asking for too much? Loser is you and looser is your ho of a girlfriend, get it straight.)

Where was I?

That’s right, the Red Pill ruined my Metal.

Wanna hear a great song? Try this one on for size. Oneitis? Check. Whiny? Yup. Bluepilled? All the way. Lovesick? God yes. Sappy? To the max. But god, it’s a good song. Good to get laid to.

I’m seeing a pattern here as I’m listening and writing. Both of these songs are sappy and melancholy to one degree or another. That’s it, I’m in a melancholy mood. And I’m okay with that. Yup, these two songs in particular are getting me right in “muh feelz.” Drinking probably isn’t helping either, but fuck it, why not.

Here’s another one for ya.

Are you digging it yet? No?

Okay. Let your ear canals feast on this one. Not really metal per-se. More like grunge if you want to split hairs. Come to think of it, I don’t know if this one is really “blue pilled” or not. Ah fuck it, it doesn’t matter.

While the Red Pill “ruined” my Metal, there is a silver lining to all of this:

You get over it.

You get over the fact that yes, most of the music you grew up and listened to, and you thought was phenomenal, is in fact, a lot of guys having oneitis over a woman. It’s a lot of guys pining over some woman that fucked them over in some way. Basically a lot of 80’s metal is country music with distortion and longer hair than their country counterparts.

But I’m getting distracted here and going off tangent.

Yes you realize that the Red Pill has ruined your music for you, for a little while at least, and then you get over it and get on with it. You are able to get back to enjoying the music, even if it’s a guy or a group of guys having oneitis over some chick they met. You get over the fact that the musician is putting his girl on a pedestal.

You get back to the fact that at least the musicians, for the most part, had some talent, and that the tunes were actually well done for their time. You get back to the good memories that you have from those songs. At least I do.

While Whitesnake’s “Is This Love?” is a sappy, blue-pilled, pedestalizing a woman, oneitis song, I can’t deny the fact that I had a lot of sex when I put that song on. I can’t deny that it has a great groove and a good bass line to it.

And when I’ve had my fill of 80’s hair metal with guys pining over some woman and putting her on a pedestal, there’s always my go-to palate cleanser:


That, and Pantera.

Or even late 80’s, early 90’s gangster rap like Ice-T, N.W.A., or Snoop Dogg.

That’ll remove any traces of blue-pill nonsense.

So yes, the Red Pill will “ruin” your Metal, at least for awhile, but then you’ll get over it and get back at it and enjoy the music for what it was meant to be:




And of course, Rock and Roll.

Turn your AC/DC up to 11. Pour out some booze for Ronnie James Dio and “Dimebag” Darrell, give the “twin horn salute,” and remember:

If it’s too loud, you’re too old.

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Single Mother’s Raising Sons

woman holding baby while sitting on fur bean bag
Ain’t It Cute? Awww…

So the other day at work, I got a helper, we’ll call him “John,” who went out on route with me.

While we were out doing our thing, and kicking ass at it I might add, having an extra set of hands will do wonders for productivity and efficiency, John and I got to bullshitting…

John is 30 years old. He’s on his second marriage, and between him and his wife, they have six children. (Talk about the Brady Bunch.)

Anyways, John’s marriage is decaying. He’s thinking of leaving her.

There’s trust issues on both sides. Apparently he started “dating” a while back when they separated. Then they got back together. Now she’s about to branch swing.

Branch swinging for those that don’t know, is when a woman is finding another man and is getting ready to jump out of her current relationship.

I know she’s branch swinging because John told me about it. She’s not being sly or coy. She’s told him that she’s met some dude and he’s “really cute,” and he “really understands her.” But they are “just friends.”

For now at least.

John’s marriage is a shit show to say the least.

His wife went to court for selling alcohol to a minor at her job. She got caught in a sting and one of the results of her poor decisions was that she lost her job, and now she’s facing fines from the court. From what he told me, she has a “hard time” holding down a job.

She knows how to push his buttons and push them she does. He knows her’s as well.

Like I said, it’s a shit show.

The biggest red flag that I heard about though, is that she is a drug addict.

She injects meth.

Meth is probably the worst of the bad news when it comes to drugs. At least in my opinion. And injecting it?

I don’t know what the street lingo is these days for injecting drugs, but when I was younger, it was called “Mainlining.”

Mainlining is a huge deal. Injecting drugs gives an instantaneous hit, whatever that hit is. It goes straight into the bloodstream and straight to the heart and brain. Whether it’s a stimulant, like meth, or a depressant like heroin, it’s effects when injected are immediate. It’s worse than snorting or smoking a drug.

If you or someone you know is injecting drugs, you have serious problems ahead of you if not already.

Seriously, it doesn’t get worse than this.

John grew up with an absentee father. His Dad was working all the time or wasn’t very attentive and active with his children. So his mother became his role model so to speak.

He’s a good looking guy, he takes care of himself and is really physically fit. He’s easy on the eyes for the ladies, I know, because I watched him and them interact throughout the day. I would even say John has decent game.

John is also a White Knight to a degree and is definitely a Captain Save a Ho. He’s trying to save his wife from herself. I get it. I would want to help my wife too. Problem is, she doesn’t want to be saved. She enjoys her lifestyle and her habits, and he enables her.

John told me that the only person he has ever feared in his life is his mother. I don’t really have the words.

He still fears her. To me, it explains a lot of his behavior towards his wife and to women in general. He’s looking for that approval from them. He basically is trying to do “the right thing.” To be a “good boy.”

Because he’s looking for approval from the women in his life, he’s made his life about the women in it. They are the Mission. They come first. They are his focus.

Do you guys do that?

Do you make the women in your life your central focus?

Do you seek their approval in who you are and what you do?

Do you let them define what a “good man” is for you?

Do you let them define your masculinity?

A long time ago, I did.

And it got me nothing but confusion, heartache, sorrow, and bitterness.

It’s a dark road going that way, letting a woman define and decide who and what you are.

If you let them define your masculinity for you, it will be to their betterment, not yours.

Our society is so ingrained with this way of thinking that it has become the norm. It’s part of why boys and men today are so feminine. It’s also why both men and women are so confused and unhappy with each other as a whole, as genders.

Women need to stop defining what masculinity is for men.

For our part as men, we need to stop listening to women telling us how to be men. We need to stop sitting at their knees.

That’s what father’s are for, ideally. If not your father, then another man. Not your mother. Not your sister(s), not your girlfriend, and not your wife.

Men define masculinity. We know best about that because we are masculine, we are men.

There’s a saying going around the interwebs, and it’s something like this:

Don’t ask a fish how to fish, ask a fisherman how to fish.

Don’t ask a woman how to be a man, or what makes a “good man.” She doesn’t know, she’s not a man. Oh don’t get me wrong, she’ll have all sorts of ideas of what she thinks makes a good man, but she has her head up her ass and is up in the night about this one. She truly has no clue.

Don’t ask a woman how to “pick up” or seduce women. She doesn’t know that either. You want to know about picking up women, ask guys who pick up women and are really good at it.

In my family, there was one member that has seen it and done it all. They had an opinion on everything and how you should do “it”, whatever that was. Can you guess who that family member was?

It was my mother.

I love her dearly, but goddamn, the woman needed to shut her gob sometimes.

I’ve learned if I want to truly get things done, especially quickly and efficiently, I talk to my father. His advice to me has been practical and priceless. He doesn’t say much, he just does. He also keeps the “you should’s” and “you ought to’s” to a minimum.

To wrap it up, I leave you with this:

Women aren’t perfect, I love that they try. My mom did the best she could with the limited knowledge and skills that she had. I’m sure it’s the same for your mother’s as well. Don’t be dicks to them.

But stop listening to what women think a man should be. Stop letting them define your masculinity for you. Stop seeking their approval. You can virtue signal all you want to them, they still won’t fuck you.

We men don’t have to answer to women. We can have our own ideas about what is being a man and being masculine without having to submit or consult with women. You do not need their approval.

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