Sunday, February 13, 2011

What if man, had a Diary? (pt. 1)

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What if a mans thoughts, written by a woman’s hand shattered onto a piece of paper, created a self-portrait of his own secrets? It would mean that a man could only gossip throw up of his past experiences and crushes until those memories could one-day surface. Would man be faithful and express his imagination, where colors are evasive enough to stick and capture the truth, or, will he swipe his credit card and forge his signature, just to get by? It’s captivating, when activating that piece of mind. It’s like stamping information onto an envelope with your full address and government name. It’s likely, but I feel it’s too personal. But when ones hobbies and stories are baked to the highest temperature, one can only put on his mittens and take it out the oven. I would say let it simmer down on a piece of paper and let yourself brainstorm your words dry, as if you were squeezing out a wet rag. A mans stature reflects his vulnerability, right? Because men are suppose to be tough, strong, powerful! Aren’t they? Why not tough it out, without exposing your mortgage APR (average percentage rate), your hard days at work or your long explosive weekends. Why not expand to the night you forgot to put on a condom, or the days where you juggled three women at once, or the time you got embarrassed because your friend wouldn’t let you borrow his porn collection. Why not men, what do you guys think? It’s not more of what you think it’s how you can express your emotional rollercoaster without intentions of bleeding your tears onto a page you so forcefully filled up with “the truth.” Take a deep breath, and allow your waves to form currents, until a tsunami strikes the reader that ever stumbles upon those pages. I ask you of one thing, have patients when the ink is pacing and accept the fact that you’re a man. And what you are about to write may fall into the eyes of your potential wife. Welcome to your Diary.

Friday, February 11, 2011

A taste of the white beatle

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I measure it as a step into a butterfly filled stomach with anxiousness and anxiety waiting to explode. My mouth waters as great news spreads fast. I take the first step. From the opening encounter the smell of fame is a sand road away, into the deep sea of celebrities. I audition thanks to a close friend of mine. I fail. Then comes along the second step. My hopes are centered towards a sun filled state with “The running man” controlling it. But as my thoughts scramble the spatula flips me over to the other side. Where dreams can evaporate only to condense back into the form of a cloud nine. Where Marilyn Monroe and John F. Kennedy can finally spoon under the remixes of Afrojack at 1 oak in New York City. Only if I can visualize something so cool, I can take narcotics back to its essence and bring the chemicals of which it came from and marinate it with my DNA. I’m just stating the obvious. I want you so bad fame. I want the t-shirt time and all the housewives into the world of Skins’ and HBO specials. I will sacrifice my boardwalk to achieve an empire just to give it up for a golden globe award. You never give me much but I can feel you present. So here I am, once again in front of you my love. The camera. As the copper filled snake oozes under my shirt towards my collar, I check, one, two, one, two, and then I begin. The moment ends with a game of Russian roulette; I survive. Here I go with my third step. Success! I’m a little far from it but the taste numbs my gums. I inhale through one nostril with closed eyes only to open them to a view of camera’s rolling. Fuck! This feeling is so fucking good… I’ll take this over the sun any day. That’s the sacrifices I'd take, which leads me to step four. My head is six feet off the ground and an edge is present at the tip of my sneakers front bumpers. What do I do? It’s simple ladies. When you hunger for a primitive male you get a gentleman, when contemporary throws up like trash you get stuck with a stuffed douche bag. I’m what you call history in the making. Am I clear? To answer your question, what I do is jump. Jump off this cliff that has no relevance to my weight. I’ll take the risk of dying only to rewind my self like a DVR recording. I guess I’m not dead after all. The fifth step is indulging in lunch with Michelle Obama. Unfortunately, that has to wait because I haven’t landed yet.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Surviving a socialistic technological conversation

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This is one way how you have fun, right? Whoever can embarrass themselves the most enjoys the company of others? Well not exactly. For a 25-year-old male living in the heart of the world; New York City, I must say its quite challenging to stay on top of your news. With socialism at its peak, information is at ones fingertips. A recent night out at a place named Black bear in Hoboken surfaced my curiosity of how challenging it is to stay relevant. To my credit, my stories have kept me interesting, you know the he said she said, endless drunk nights at Atlantic City, One time at 4am, etc. However, with her cell phone in hand, with fingers sporadically typing away, the little voice within my conscience became speechless. Blowing me out of the spotlight, references and photographs were surfaced at her disposal. Men have a long history of telling personal stories and supplying smiles all around. What do we know on the crisis in Egypt and the Gaza strip? After all, it does seem interesting, if we just cared enough to know about it. To my expense, the conversations drastically switched from a humans well being to how the government should take action towards women’s rights. Why haven’t these conversations facade before? Personal technology has given the freedom of being able to talk about anything and everything. My interest grew heavier towards these topics. At one point during the course of the evening, I had a cell phone in one hand and a chicken wing in the other, my appetite became full of facts; Facts that with a little bit of searching, had a ring that captured each ear around me. We penetrated into full-fledged royal conversations. The night had come to a conclusion as my mind was stuffed with valid information. We are in a world where technology is alive. Search it, if one is in disbelief. The next time your out enjoying ones banters, take your cell phone out and search “pyramids”, and see how long the discussions last.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

A couple of crucial steps on the weekend (A mans guide to fulfilling his urges)

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For those nights when skiing up your nostrils (cocaine) is in the air and you have a Brittany Spears look a like in your peripherals, it’s quite easy to see how a conversation can go from a truck into Optimus Prime. But for those who enjoy a couple of long island ice teas and have self-confidence issues, one can see where the problem lies. Consider yourself a gentleman. In a world where shivery has vanished and the only way to bring it back is to open up a strangers door and let them out, only to expose them to a good time (or a magic trick if you’re a fucking magician). The key lies with time. How one uses it to his or her advantage given the right signs and clues is up to them. Now I’m not implying one to throw a drink at someone to get a reaction from him or her, I’m only asking to consider a sign. A wink of an eye, a smile from a distance, an eyebrow raised to perfection, a friend’s friend, and an introduction by a friend, a drunken slur, something one can adjust and work with. A woman in an alcoholic bubble on the weekend gets approached on an average of at least 5 – 15 times a night. The odds of landing on her runway is slim, unless you’re Chesley Sullenberger and you can land on fucking water, good luck! It’s really not worth it, there are a million fish in the sea, get yourself a better hook!
The End.
Ok, for those readers that gotten to this point of my discussion without flipping the page and are brave enough to have at least some balls to walk up to women. I will explain to you how to behave accordingly around hot women (and of course how to hopefully engage in a one night stand). It all comes down to ones appearance and fragrance and a little bit of paying attention to the type of woman you are around (detail). The aspect of appearance at my age (an 80’s baby) is to escape as many buttons as possible. I know Jay-Z made a PSA to wear button downs but it’s been about 3 years now, what the fuck are you people still doing? The simple classy look is what captures attention and makes you stand out. When is the last time you went out on a night out in NYC and haven’t seen a trillion ironed collars? It’s not likely, so the key is to stick with colors that work for your skin tone and to make sure those colors are somewhat solid with small logos. Consider a t-shirt or a v-neck; believe me the simpler you are the further the conversation will go. If you’re a tanned male, your colors are of dark decent (black, brown, and once in a while, pink). If you’re a bale ghost or have a dark complexity lighter colors will adjust to your skin just fine.
A bum once asked me for change and by the way he smelled, I gave him 50 cents. With ones look comes his scent and that scent has to equal up to his look. The right fragrance is the solution. For marketing rights and copyright infringements, I cannot disclose any fragrance names (laughs to himself). Although one time, for about three straight weeks back in 2009, I wore the “very sexy” fragrance by Victoria Secret (Ops! Sue me!) To understand what fragrance is, it’s a smell that one can fully be comfortable wearing no matter the consequences or whether the delicate scent is for men or women. If you like the tang, make sure you’re wearing it with some buoyancy. Spraying, is very critical with the recognition of limitation. The back of the ears, forearms, and chest are the settings where fragrance should fully hibernate on. It is not a contest of who can guess the brand. Keep it fresh and classy guys, without taking a bath in your favorite Bleu de Chanel (my favorite).
There are three different types of weekend women out there. The first kind is “The Loner.” She is the one with the jacket still at hand wondering around “looking for her friends,” which translate to, I need a conversation type. Then comes the “Flash Mob.” She is the girl that has all her friends out, determined to stay by their sides at all times. And the third kind is the “Mega Ball.” She is the hottest stuck up in the place. Intrigued as I once was, I always had a hard time approaching women. I always hollered at them as though they were animals. Results did vary, always in my room whether it hit the napkin or the floor. You may ask yourself what it takes to get women like these, and here are a few solutions:

“The Loner” – The conversation has to be short and brief as you introduce excitement. Make reference on seeing her walking around alone, with a little bit of a concern (in a funny manner). Key is to focus on only “you” and “her.” Do not ever ask whom she’s with and why she is alone. Offering a drink is out of the question as well. End the conversation with where your whereabouts of where you are going to be if she needs you. Let some time pass, most of the time if a woman enjoyed your approach she comes to your rescue. If not, then after fifteen minutes look for her. The ice has already been broken, if she likes you or not, the doors have already been opened.

“Flash Mob” – Approach only (when she is on the dance floor) with another person or a group of friends. This is not a one-man mission. Escape the cliché of having drinks in your hand while on the dance floor. When innocence fills the air, women will embrace it. Advance towards the most unattractive woman in the group and dance with her, while locking eyes on your sincere goal. Let your wolf pack know who your target is and allow them to try and dance with her. Only to give her up in about two minutes (time is crucial). Then give the signal and have your friend hand her to you as you hand your woman to him. Less talk more dance, enjoy each other’s vibes. When comfortable whisper to her and ask if she would like a drink.

“Mega Ball” – Is the most difficult to get, but not impossible. The trick is to stay consistent in verbal intercourse. Meaning, constantly approaching her with a line or two from your favorite “top 5 lines” a man says to a woman. Rejection is typical in these situations but don’t be discouraged. The more appearances the better her memory serves her. Always use the “friend” rule. Execute into small conversations with her friends and stay close to the action. The moment her reaction turns from ordinary to completely ripped, your time has come. Most “Mega ball’s” have insecurity issues so when the “remi's in the system, aint no telling, will I…” well you get the point.
Enjoy!