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Monday, February 13, 2012

God, Debt, and Sex - Running Through My Brain



I am often asked the question, “What are you thinking about?”

I usually say “Nothing,” but that’s not true.

Mostly I think about God. Honestly, God runs through my head almost incessantly.

The other things I think about in pretty equal measure are 1.) Debt, bills, how in the hell are we gonna pay our rent this month? and 2.) Sex, porn, how nice that girl’s ass is.

I would willingly say “God” if I hadn’t discovered the fact that most people are turned off by God or want to get into some woo-woo talk about crystals, airy-fairyness, or accepting Jesus as your personal savior.

And I’m sure as hell not going to tell someone, “Well I was just thinking about how nice your tits look in that shirt, and if I wasn’t married I’d think about wanting to fuck you, but since I’m married, I’ll probably just file your tits away in my mental rolodex and use them when I’m jerking off in the shower.”  P.S. – I love my wife, we have an amazing sex life, but I’m a Scorpio and as much as I’ve tried to go without jerking off or thinking about sex during one of the barren sex spells my wife and I have had, it only creates more sex on the brain. (And just so you know, if you’re not married, make sure your relationship has more going for it than the raucous sex, because for the majority of married couples, it will taper off and the 3 times a day sex you think will last for years, won’t. And if all you have is sex, when it’s far less frequent, you’ll wonder where the love went and why you are married to this person.)

On a side note – Guys, be careful of wanting to marry your first regular pussy.  It’s easy to look past incompatibly when you’re getting some, especially if it’s the first time you’ve had it.  Beware the first regular pussy.  You’ve been warned.

And when it comes to debt and bills, and the inherent stress of making enough money to barely make ends meet? I tend to not talk to other people about my problems or concerns, even with my wife.  I am hoping to change this, not to become one of those people that immediately launches into every issue they’ve ever had and just how shitty their life is (I was just making small talk in the supermarket line, didn’t realize I had a “Free Therapy” sticker on my forehead).  But I want to be able at least to discuss my stresses, my fears, my problems and work towards the remedy.  I think for so long I have been afraid of being looked at as a failure, that if I discussed my problems, I would receive that validation and confirmation, and so, instead, I run the stress and struggle in circles around the safety of my own head, fulfilling my view that I am a failure – even though I know that I am not and that is just some bullshit mechanism that my own psyche and ego plays to perpetuate it’s own sad story.

So I usually just say “Nothing.”


Monday, February 6, 2012

Quitting Smoking - Heaven Help Me


I started smoking when I was 18 years old.  The funny thing is that until I actually started, I was always one of those people that thought there was no way in hell I would ever be a smoker.  Well, 17 years and unwilling-to-figure-out-just-how-much-I've-spent-on-smokes later, it is time to stop. Really this time.

I've tried half-heartedly to quit before.  "I'm gonna do it this time." "I'll feel so good." "I can already feel my lungs clearing out." And a day-and-half later, I'm come up with some not-so-good reason to start again.  It's amazing how the mind can rationalize the continuation of a habit that really has little benefit outside of the fact that it feels fucking good.

That's the thing about smoking. I love it. I love the first drag in the morning.  I love a cup of coffee and a smoke. I reeaaaallllyyyy loved a smoke (or pack of) when I was drinking (I rarely drink anymore so that's not gonna be an issue). I love a smoke after sex. I love a smoke with my wife outside on a nice night talking about life and God and love. I love a smoke with friends. I fucking love smoking and I have never apologized for that.

But, like that old friend that you love hanging out but know is a bad influence, sometimes you outgrow something you love and it is time to move on.

So it is the case with my smoking.  I love you, old friend.  But it's time for me to move on.

Heaven help me. Fuck.