So the last couple of days, maybe a week or so, I’ve been reading “Finally Some Good News,” and “The Pussy” from the author Delicious Tacos. His material is raw to say the least. For a guy who is anonymous, and I’ve never met him, at least as far as I know, he’s got to be one of the most honest men I’ve ever read in my life.

His material isn’t for everybody, that’s for sure. Dark in many places, even bordering on nihilistic, and it’s more about the sex than anything I’ve read in awhile. If you have delicate sensitivities, I’m warning you now, you’ll probably not want to read his stuff. But if you want to have a gander inside of a man’s mind, his mind at least, check him out.

Delicious Tacos has said some things that I’ve found thought provoking to say the least.

Here’s a quote from The Pussy:

You solve writer’s block by eating shit and being in agony for years. Force yourself to hammer out worse than useless garbage for hours that feel like lifetimes. Every day, until something clicks and you suddenly need it as therapy.

This quote stood out to me for a couple of reasons. Lately I feel that the “creativity well” is drying up. Every day it gets harder to think about things to write about, let alone actually write about them. Most of the time I think, “why bother? No one gives a shit.” And in all honesty, that’s true. No one gives a shit. And I think, why am I doing this? Why am I writing on this blog? What the fuck am I doing here? And yet here I am, running my mouth yet again, or pounding on the keys is more like it. Screaming into the Void.

I sit down and write a post, craft it lovingly, and I think to myself, “This is the one! This one! This one will finally get some traction!” And so I hit “publish,” the post goes live when it’s supposed to, and…..Crickets.

And I’m like, “Damn…”

And then I post a rant and the fucker takes off. Go figure. In all seriousness though, I owe a huge debt of gratitude and thanks to some of my guys on Twitter. A couple of retweets of my posts and I feel like Stephen King going to the bank to cash a check from all the royalties. I guess I write some things sometimes that are relevant or hit a nerve. Timing is impeccable sometimes.

Another quote from Delicious Tacos that stood out for me:

The purpose of this hobby web site is to help other people feel less alone. You can feel less alone about good things too. Hopeful things.

That one really got under my skin. That’s part of why I write too. Whether you read and comment or not, I like to think that it (my site) helps you out in some way. Even if it is just that you feel a little less alone.

It does for me. I feel a little less alone fantasizing and imagining people reading my shit and getting something from it. Which then makes me wonder about my audience. Who are you? Where do you live? What do you do for a living? Are you single? Divorced? Widowed? Some of you I know because of my newsletter. You guys rock, you are Kings amongst commoners. You all know who you are.

I imagine that the majority of my readership are Men. And why wouldn’t you be? I’m a Man, writing about Men shit for the most part, catering specifically to Men. But I do imagine that some of my audience are women. I mean, I know that some of you are, or at least one or two of you. Which makes me wonder, what are you getting from my site? Is it just general curiosity? Is something I’m saying making your life better? Are you taking notes and handing them off to your brother? Or a boyfriend? Husband? Is it my mug? Do I make you laugh? I don’t dwell on these questions too often, but they do come up from time to time.

Here’s something completely random and out of left field:

There’s been many times on Masculine Geek, I’m sitting there chilling, Vince is doing whatever he’s doing, I’m watching the guys on the chat doing their thing, and TJ is “being brief,” and out of nowhere, I start thinking, “I wonder if there’s any women watching the show right now.” As far as I know, when it comes to the chat at least, they’re all dudes. Awesome dudes. Intelligent dudes. Dudes from all walks of life, from all over the globe. And they are choosing to spend a couple of hours with me and my amigos on a Wednesday night. I love you guys. You are the best audience in the world. I’m blessed and humbled with you choosing to spend time with me. You could be doing anything else in the world, and here you are, choosing to shoot the shit with me. Thank you guys. Seriously.

But, “where da wimmin at?” I know you ladies are watching. I can feel it. Okay maybe I can’t. But the statistical probability is that there are a couple of you lurking in the background watching us geeks doing geek shit.

In my neck of the woods, at least on Twitter, there’s been a lot of talk lately about the “Brand of Me.” Guys doing and saying shit to promote their brand, and that’s okay. I’ve been reflecting on that for a moment and I’ve come to realize that I don’t really have a “brand” so to speak. Sure, I tend to talk about things that pertain to Men and would interest them in general. At least it interests me. And that’s just it, I find it interesting. I’m actually glad that I don’t have a “brand.” I can say whatever I want now that I think about it, and it won’t be incongruous with my “branding.”

If I decide to talk about photography, it’ll work here, because that’s something that I do. Same with firearms and motorcycles. Same with VPN’s, networking, and “the dark web.” All of these things interest me. Even piracy. Yes, I’m talking about eye patches and “arrg.”

I could even talk about sex if I want to. Here’s something for Delicous Tacos if he ever happens to stumble across my humble little blog and this post:

Dude, you are like what? 40? Early 40’s? You mention your desire to have sex with damn near anything female within grabbing distance? (I’m sort of paraphrasing here.) I’ve got some bad news for you buddy. That desire? That need? That urge? It never goes away. Ever. I’m serious as a heart attack when I say that. It never goes away. I’m closer to 48 than 47 now and that urge, that desire, hasn’t diminished in the slightest. The only reprieve I get compared to when I was in my 20’s is I don’t walk around with a hard on pitching a tent in my gym shorts as often. Other than that, welcome to the rest of your life. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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