Not On My Ass

Today I read a post that simply brought tears to my eyes. In it, the author describes his wonderful wife and how their honeymoon is in its seventeeth year . The reason tears clouded my eyes is because I'm a romantic at heart. It sounds strange for me to say that. All the contributors to this blog are workaholics and to us (with the possible exception of CosmicLeap), "ro-mantic" sounds like a type of new fangled cement mixer. Why then, did this post rip something within me apart? While I was reading it, I was also listening to Ne-yo's new album , In My Own Words . The track " So Sick " began to play. This track is about heartbreak . The lyrics are evocative and heart rending. In it, he sings my life with his words: Gotta change my answering machine Now that I'm alone Cuz right now it says that we Can't come to the phone And I know it makes no sense Cuz you walked out the door But it's the only way I hear your voice anymore (it's r

If I had known this a long time ago, I'd be so much more successful with women. Sadly, it's taken me this long to learn. This is the kind of advice I'll give my son once he turns fourteen. Had I known this years ago, my sex life would be much more active:). Once again, I'm shamelessly quoting an article. This one is titled: HOWTO Listen To Women . Let’s begin with an illustration. What would you say? She: “My landlord is a jerk. When I ask him to fix things, he’s always late and grouchy about it. He always brings up the time that I was two weeks late paying…” You (reasonable but stupid): “Yeah, landlords are all that way. You just have to put up with it.” Do not give advice. You (stupider): “You should get a new apartment.” Do not solve the problem. You (stupidest): “Why didn’t you pay him?” Do not criticize. This is where the secret begins. Most men would have given one of the stupid answers. They seem perfectly reasonable from their point of view. When a woma

Long after a relationship ends , I often find that I live in a dream world. I withdraw into my safe shell , avoid going clubbing, avoid dating, socialising or doing anything that might accidentally result in me meeting my ex. Even though I've more or less convinced myself that I've moved on, time always proves that I'm a fickle overemotional bastard... So let me tell you about a recent weekend... I decided to go out after a long period of staying away from public life . I'd been silent for long enough and like a new born calf, I wanted to test my unsteady, shaky legs in the normal world. So on the weekend in question, I stepped out of my cave, shivering and shaking wondering what the night had in store. I was actually intent on getting a pretty young thing to take home and wear out with all my pent up sexual energy. My wingmen (the dudes who fly with me into "dangerous situations" with a view to taking down as many birds as possible) and I hi

There are two types of people: those that talk the talk and those that walk the walk. People who walk the walk sometimes talk the talk but most times they don't talk at all, 'cause they walkin'. Now, people who talk the talk, when it comes time for them to walk the walk, you know what they do? They talk people like me into walkin' for them. - Key ( Anthony Anderson in Hustle & Flow )

Ah.. the good old days... do you guys remember the innocent games you played when you were young? Those games seemed so innocent but in hindsight they seem torrid. Like this game I'm sure we all played called sandwhich :) Sandwich involved laying a broad, flat couch pillow down on the floor. This was the bread. Then Lori would pull her pants down around her ankles and lie face down on the pillow. Next, the precocious mastermind three-year-old Dowbrigade would pull down HIS pants and lie down on top of Lori. This accomplished, young Karen would pull down HER pants and get on top of the Dowbrigade. Finally, somehow (for there was no one else to help) we got another of the big, flat pillows and maneuvered it onto the very top of the pile. This was the finished sandwich. Once the sandwich was assembled, the fun would begin. The object, as we seem to remember, was to sway gently and slightly back and forth, gradually increasing the swings in amplitude and speed, balancing more and m

We are one year old now!!! yeepiee!! teething almost crawling it has been one year since the first post(dated 02/02/2005) Thanks everyone All those lovely(and unlovely!) comments! Let's throw the papers in the air in celebration!

Suddenly I am balding and my hair's whitening I am wrinkling and gaining fat in odd places becoming saggy and my stomach's distending Years have flown by... I squint your eyes trying to see through the thick lens looking through the window at the trees swaying from side to side in a distance dancing to the unsteady beat of the wind I am healthy and for my age, I am looking great. But time ticks buy, ever so dutifully So in my mind, death lingers on like a dark shadow following me and my thoughts... the reality of mortality stairs back at me blankly... In my old mind... I try to think about what really matters to me What is important Money? Spouse(s)? Love(s)? Child(ren)? Former Boss? Bully back in Primary School? Piece of land? Phd? God(s) and my relation with him(them)? If any. Friend(s)? Foe(s)? My vehicle(s)? Achievement(s)? What I did and didn't do? Everything seems to fall in place It is now very lucid I now know... What really mattered And I am not sure whether I am