Now I never said jocks were totally useless. Mainly, yes, but not totally. There are certain jobs that jocks are very well-suited for. No, not professional athletes, but jocks. I’ve got nothing against being physically fit, but being fit has nothing to do with sports. Nice people don’t compete unless they have to. Besides, here is a perfectly good use for the sports section of the newspaper. When you bring a patio chair inside, you can use the sports to soak up the raindrops so your arse doesn’t get wet. There, don’t say I’m not being fair.
First, I’m not bothered by rain on my own time, as I always have activities or constructive hobbies to wait it out. Where this system breaks down is when I must follow somebody else’s schedule, and they live by the clock. This morning I was understandably anxious to get over to my new diet clinic. Instead I find a massive storm. Worse, I left my rain gear in the scooter when we went to pick up the trailer (that was y’day), so I couldn’t suit up.
If you have not tried GoreTex fabric, do so now. Don’t waste another moment in those other raincoats that make you sweat so badly you wish you’d stayed in the rain. You know the ones, those heavy yellow suits that look like fireman gear. It’s okay when the motorcycle is moving, only your kneecaps get wet. But this is Florida. In rush hour, you either speed or just miss every green light. I arrived completely soaked.
The batbike does not like wet weather either. There is a short [electrical] somewhere that dries out once the motor is running. But getting it running [takes time] doesn’t rank up there with my favorites. I literally drove with the booster battery in my lap, since everything was soaked anyway. On arrival, I was tempted to leave it running, but decided no. Good thinking, I was in the clinic until noon. Once back outside, I found I was missing my spray starter fluid. I’d left it behind with Miguel while working on the scooter.
On top of this, I got an injection at the clinic that left me achingly thirsty and all they had was coffee, which did not help. That, and craving for salt. I’m just telling you how the day went down. Now I found out that my 1200 calorie per day starvation diet is about to be restricted even further for an entire month. I think you can see why I drove to Jimbos at 11:00 AM, parked my front tire against a pylon, left it idling and went inside for a beer. And salted peanuts. Lots of salt.
Trivia. Did you know 47% of people get a headache every year? Except for symptoms accompanying a flu or similar infection, I have not had a real headache in probably twenty-five years. The first electric train ran on batteries. It was invented by a man whose middle name was Lionel, and he also invented the battery, which he gave away for nothing. And those SOS soap pads for cleaning your pots? Look closely, it is not SOS but S.O.S and the final period is missing. Why? Because otherwise the name was copyrighted by a band called ABBA. (Note that S.O.S., the navy signal, is technically wrong because the operator does not sent the periods when tapping out the signal. He just goes dash-dash-dash, dot-dot-dot, dash-dash-dash because it is easy to send.)
In closing, can I think of anything controversial? Not really. So, I’ll do what the media does and make it up. Okay, I claim this blog to be unique in that I intentionally avoid certain topics which I know would create more hits. I’m not into counting hits, but popularity never hurts an extrovert. (In fact, I discourage uneducated people from reading this blog. Self-test: if you disagree with most of what I say, that would be you.) When I do mention such topics, it is generally to make a different point than what’s in the content. Therefore, this is one of the few blogs that is regularly updated where you can be reasonably certain the following topics will NOT be shoved at you every goddamed day:
Religion
Same-sex marriage (as if it is some big important issue)
Politics
Pretending AIDS is just like any other disease
(You guessed it) Sports
ADDENDUM
Here’s an oddball item. I found myself amused by an on-line video by somebody called Josh who claims to have a sure-fire way to seduce women. It was his approach that got me to even look, because he seems to have hit on the same concept that I did so long ago. Stay with me here, as there is much misunderstanding on this topic. Men who laugh at me because I have no knowledge of how to pick up a whore, I laugh at back because they can’t pick up anything else. No names mentioned here, Wallace and Ken, your secret is safe with me.
But I understand I am outnumbered fifty to one, other guys can indeed pick up fifty hookers for every one decent gal I find. That is not the point here, the point is how does one get the hottest babes in the room? One of the reasons I have no fear of rejection is because I only go after the best. Forget pickup lines, forget bulging muscles, the “trick” is to make it easy for the lady to decide for herself. I’ve successfully employed these tactics my entire life, not caring to share them with other, less successful men. Josh, at the other extreme, is selling.
What kept me listening was that he was not only on the right track, he got the priorities straight as well. Since I’ve never published a thing on this subject, he must have developed or learned the methods on his own, that is, I can’t take any credit for what he’s doing. He’s right, however. Before I continue, bear in mind I’m only talking about some things you say and do here. I’ve got many more items I’m not mentioning, most of them subtle and very, very clever indeed.
Never turn your chest directly at a new woman. Always watch her mouth when she speaks. Always tell her you are new in town or at least in the neighborhood. Always “conspire” about something with her, but keep it light. Always tell her you feel comfortable around her, that she makes you feel like yourself. There are, of course, dozens of other factors (like having tight buns) but I’m just pointing out that I use an indirect approach. I discovered at age 16: Never take a fortress by storm.
I know what most jocks are thinking. I’ll say it once again (slowly, so they can follow along), I have no trouble meeting women, you do. I have no problem breaking the ice, you are the wimp. I can connect with any woman in the room, you can’t without coming across as a jerk. I’ve got a tremendous track record with decent gals, you don’t even know what decent is. The problem is that after a certain age, it becomes nearly impossible to find that kind of woman. If could meet even one decent lady, she’d be mine, not yours. And that is that.
The second move is to get the lady out of where you met. Do not stay in a place where all the loser jocks can see that the lady is receptive. They’ve been watching her, farting in their bar stools. Once you break the ice, they can get ugly. Leave and go someplace else where you walk in as a couple. Continue from there.
I’m curious what Josh here has come up with but that doesn’t mean I’ll buy his book. He quotes that statistic I’ve seen numerous times in my life and don’t really know how it could be true except for my brothers. I first saw it in a comment by Hugh Hefner, that the average man in his life has sex with seven women. Seven!
Maybe that’s why I feel like I’m 2,000 years old.
