17 July 2015
03 July 2015
30 June 2015
Our Purpose
No, we did not ask to be born in these times, but there is a reason why we were. We have a specific purpose here. We are on a mission. Thank God you were created for this era. It is an honour to have been chosen. If you can figure it out and accept it, then everything makes sense. Perceive clearly the path before you.
23 June 2015
22 June 2015
18 June 2015
Saturday Night Cat Fight
Saturday night's alright for fighting, apparently, because I recently had two girls fight over me.
So the other night I went out with a girlfriend to a live music venue in Laguna Beach. We procured some cocktails and stood near the stage. The IOIs [Indicators of Interest] started coming in thick and fast, particularly from a group of hot thirtysomething blondes who were gyrating across the dance floor. Of course, my girlfriend noticed and immediately got into defense mode.
At one point one of the tiny blondes slid in between us and started grinding her tight little ass on my chopper. It was quite blatant. Having consumed several G&Ts by that point, I honestly didn't much care at first, but my lady companion did and words were exchanged.
I was oblivious to what was going down next to me, until another woman--who was there with her boyfriend and who kept smiling at me and rubbing my beard (which was also driving my companion crazy)--told me what was up. My girlfriend and the tiny blonde were in each other's face and threatening each other. I caught the words "fucking cunt" and "fuck off". It looked as if blows were about to be exchanged.
After I told her to calm down my lady finally just turned her back on her and the little blonde backed off, swearing and spitting. I turned around and yelled at her to fuck off, chill out, relax, and enjoy the music. She slinked away to the back of the bar with her friends. She was still glaring at us when we left at midnight.
I think I handled the scene rather well and prevented what could have turned into major drama and possible crime scene and spilled blood on the dance floor. I didn't want to be a total scoundrel to the little blonde and her hot friends because, well, you never know. One has to leave one's options open.
My one regret was not getting the number of the woman who kept smiling at me and rubbing my bearded face. She was seriously sexy, with long light brown hair bleached at the ends and a rack to die for. Her boyfriend, strangely enough, was cool with it and kept trying to make nice with me.
It's all about attitude and how you carry yourself.
The funny thing is, when I was yelling at the tiny blonde to fuck off and chill out--I had to raise my voice due to the loud music--she had what I think was an aroused look on her face and it seemed as if she was about to kiss me.
There's always next Saturday.
So the other night I went out with a girlfriend to a live music venue in Laguna Beach. We procured some cocktails and stood near the stage. The IOIs [Indicators of Interest] started coming in thick and fast, particularly from a group of hot thirtysomething blondes who were gyrating across the dance floor. Of course, my girlfriend noticed and immediately got into defense mode.
At one point one of the tiny blondes slid in between us and started grinding her tight little ass on my chopper. It was quite blatant. Having consumed several G&Ts by that point, I honestly didn't much care at first, but my lady companion did and words were exchanged.
After I told her to calm down my lady finally just turned her back on her and the little blonde backed off, swearing and spitting. I turned around and yelled at her to fuck off, chill out, relax, and enjoy the music. She slinked away to the back of the bar with her friends. She was still glaring at us when we left at midnight.
I think I handled the scene rather well and prevented what could have turned into major drama and possible crime scene and spilled blood on the dance floor. I didn't want to be a total scoundrel to the little blonde and her hot friends because, well, you never know. One has to leave one's options open.
My one regret was not getting the number of the woman who kept smiling at me and rubbing my bearded face. She was seriously sexy, with long light brown hair bleached at the ends and a rack to die for. Her boyfriend, strangely enough, was cool with it and kept trying to make nice with me.
It's all about attitude and how you carry yourself.
The funny thing is, when I was yelling at the tiny blonde to fuck off and chill out--I had to raise my voice due to the loud music--she had what I think was an aroused look on her face and it seemed as if she was about to kiss me.
There's always next Saturday.
17 June 2015
27 May 2015
22 May 2015
Swagger
Last night an old lady came up to me in the street, gave me a big smile, and said I have swagger. That's cool, because I was afraid it might be pimp-walk.
11 May 2015
06 May 2015
11 April 2015
25 March 2015
My disdain for the paparazzi began early. When I was 9 my parents hired a professional photographer for a family portrait somewhere in rural CT. I thought the whole thing was gay, and, befitting my stubborn, contemptuous nature, refused to smile for it. The photographer kept cajoling and teasing me to get me to smile, but I refused. I quickly came to hate that prick. He ended up taking a bunch of pictures in which I could only manage an awkward smirk. Needless to say, I ruined the day for everyone, they informed me. Certainly the incident contributed to the growing rift and estrangement between me and my relatives which persists to this day. Just because I didn’t want to look like a grinning little idiot. Mofos.
19 March 2015
Poets and Fighters
— Dominique Venner (1935-2013)
12 March 2015
10 March 2015
09 March 2015
28 February 2015
23 February 2015
On Sexual Assault
As you have probably heard, my social calendar has been rather hectic lately. I was out late with friends over the weekend. The female behaviour I observed at both live music venues was a bit startling to say the least, at least to an old school fogey like moi. Saturday night I was assaulted--if that is the right word--twice by random young women. One fondled my beard, while the other one groped my chest. Have things really come to this? Maybe they have--but I'm certainly not pressing charges. See you next weekend.
16 February 2015
07 February 2015
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