I guess that’s what kids do to you. My ex-girlfriend — I’m talking about my first love — has had two kids from two different men.
I know, it sounds petty (making this post), but I must anonymously vent somewhere.
My ex-girlfriend is still hot. Given the opportunity, I’d love to bury my nose between her ass cheeks and smell her pheromonal filth again. I have zero desire to date her again (lying, cheating twat), but I’d be remiss if I didn’t still believe she had nice thighs and a perfect, round ass.
I generally consider her to be the hottest girl I have ever dated, but she isn’t looking as good as she used to. She’s aged considerably, and being a natural brunette with Portuguese roots, she doesn’t look that good as a blonde. Still, I’ve jacked off to her a few times lately. She just doesn’t look that great now as much as she did when we were together.
I heard a couple of redneck fellers talking amongst each other the other day about how they think it’s bullshit that blacks can state they are proud to be black and that Hispanics can state that they are proud to be Hispanic, but that it’s racist to say they are proud to be white.
Personally, I think it’s moronic to be proud of something you did not choose or work to achieve. While I think the latest media-inspired racism ‘fuel the fire’ shit that is going on in society nowadays is a headache on both sides (racists no matter the side; I’ll leave it at that).
Should I be proud of being 6’2″ and hairy? A rational answer should be, “fuck no”. That’s my DNA makeup and genetics. So why would you be proud of something you did not choose that was practically made-up at one’s birth?
Instead, be proud of your accomplishments. Be proud that you have worked for over a decade on becoming a science whiz or that you’ve spent the last two years growing as a bodybuilder and topped an old PR (personal record). That makes more sense than being proud over an uncontrollable, predetermined trait.
I didn’t play a single video game from January until late September (outside of going over to a buddy’s house to play a little bit of NBA 2K17 during a visit in May).
However, I game the most during the fall and winter, when it’s cold outside and I’m in the house more often. Unfortunately, that’s when most video games release.
Call of Duty World War II is releasing this Friday, and I want to buy it so damn badly, but… I shouldn’t. Why not? Because I don’t need it. I have NBA 2K18, Halo 5 and Forza Horizon 3 to keep me company for a while, at least until Red Dead Redemption 2 releases next year, and I just bought the Witcher 3 and all the DLCs for $20.
But, man, I’m a World War II nut, and I haven’t bought a Call of Duty in a few years. I hated the futuristic shit, and I’m stoked that they are bringing the series back to the old days.
I have the money for it, but I feel like the $60 should be spent elsewhere. I’m not sure what to do. Should I buy the game or wait?
I’m truly just waiting for Red Dead Redemption 2 to drop in June. I’m 100% preordering it.
But I loved the old Call of Duty games from the second one to Modern Warfare 3. I never cared much for Black Ops 1 or 2.
With the series going back to World War II, I want to buy it so badly, but… I feel guilty about it. I feel like I shouldn’t. Impulse control is a bitch.
My girlfriend works at a hotel. A group of Indians purchased it a few weeks ago and the sale was made final today. Everyone who works at the hotel knew it was an ominous sign, as the same group of Indians purchased another hotel directly down the road from this one earlier this year and they docked everyone’s pay.
Of course, my girlfriend is only making thirty cents above minimum wage at this time. However, everyone else there knew they’d be affected. One of my little lady’s favorite colleagues, who worked there for ten years, quit. Today, she handed each and every person there a handwritten, personal letter. Gut wrenching. If that isn’t heartbreaking enough, the general manager — the boss — who was responsible for hiring my girlfriend and giving her a chance in the first place… is leaving. She and the Indians could not come to terms with the pay.
Personally, I think it’s chickenshit to take over a company and immediately dock everybody’s pay. But c’est la vie. That’s the way it is in the world of big businesses. It’s sad. But that doesn’t make it any less bullshit.
There’s other people leaving… two of the desk receptionists. That leaves only three other people who will be at the desk (my girlfriend and two others). I hope everything will work itself out. I don’t know who will take their boss’s place. I was really hoping she’d stay, because my girlfriend liked her so well. She was a great boss. Good to everyone. She doesn’t give anybody an unfair shake. She was constantly looking to please negative reviewers on sites like Trip Advisor and other review sites. But I can understand her wanting to leave if the dipshit new owners want to lowball her.
On one hand, I understand what the new owners want to do… save money and increase profits, but what every business owner needs to know and understand is this: happy employees = a more successful business in the long run.
I just had to post my thoughts somewhere, even if to strangers on the internet that probably won’t even read this. My heart breaks for my girlfriend over this transition. I wouldn’t be so upset for her if her boss was staying, but with her leaving after over 20 years of experience, it’s going to be strange.
This is a small area. My girlfriend moved here to be with me. It took her over five months just to get a job (this one) despite applying anywhere and everywhere. It’s definitely a “it’s who you know” kind of place when it comes to getting a job. My girlfriend just got lucky landing this hotel one. All thanks to the boss who’s now leaving.
I hope things will look up. I hope it’ll all “come out in the wash”.
Andy Frisella is amazing. He’s the MFCEO. He busts ass daily. Grinds. No excuses. No bullshit. I’ve been listening to his thoughts that he’s been generous enough to share for the last two years. I’m thankful.
Here’s his Facebook post about being a real man:
Lots of talk about being a “REAL MAN” today.
Sorry to break it to some of you hard asses out there but grease on your hands, guns and beard doesn’t make you a “REAL MAN”.
A “REAL MAN” lets his character speak:
Do your best. Every time.
Take responsibility for your actions.
Know that your problems are AT LEAST 50% your fault…and more than likely 100%.
When you make mistakes (and you will make plenty): Admit when youre wrong.
Fix the issue.
Know you know very little.
Bring others up.
If you have an issue have enough respect for the person to address it privately.
When you lose. Dont pout. Come back stronger.
Celebrate others success.
Dont hold grudges.
Wish the best for others.
…and a million other things.
REAL MEN live these values from their heart. Its genuine. Its not a fake facade they put on for the world on social where they say one thing and do another.
Sometimes its hard too.
Sometimes you have internal struggle over it.
Sometime youd rather eat a pile of shit than apologize, take responsibility or forgive
…but that only hurts you, burdens you & chips away at your character & self worth.
Do your best to become a REAL MAN…not just talk about being one.
I was born in ’91. My first love (when it comes to sports) was basketball. I had a tiny, little basketball hoop and eventually got a big basketball goal that’s still in my driveway today (from ’97 to now). I played rec league basketball and won a watch from being the best shooter on the team after a day during practice in which I hit more shots than my teammates.
I thought Michael Jordan was the shit (just like every other ’90s kid). Space Jam was my jam; I even had the soundtrack playing all the time. I bandwagoned the Los Angeles Lakers when I was 8-years-old because I thought there could be no duo better than Shaq and Kobe. It pissed my dad off, because he was a Boston Celtics fan who wanted me to like them! He also was a big Tim Duncan fan, and the last NBA Finals we watched together before his death was the 2003 Finals between the San Antonio Spurs and New Jersey Nets.
I don’t really have a singular favorite “team”. I felt a soft spot in my heart when the Celtics beat the Lakers in the 2008 NBA Finals. I have a shithorde of favorite players from over the years. Tim Duncan, Kobe Bryant, Kevin Garnett, Tracy McGrady, Paul Pierce, Ray Allen, Brandon Roy……………. the list goes on and on.
That’s why, I guess, I still love the game now! So many people bitch and cry over the Golden State Warriors running the table, but I find it pretty entertaining. Of course, the league is at its best when big market teams are contenders.
I’m just a southern white boy from southwest Virginia. There are no teams here. I guess the closest one would be the Charlotte Hornets, about four hours away from me. I’m from a rural area that cares more about college and pro football than it does anything else. NBA isn’t talked about here unless you are playing basketball with other fans, and even then — despite it being shit in quality these days — college basketball is favored.
So hell, I love all the shit that is going on in the NBA right now. It’s fun. It’s entertaining. Sometimes I root for certain teams to defeat others, but all in all, I’m just a fan. I don’t feel this way with any other sport (outside of, say, an individual sport like MMA).
My back is fookin’ killing me right now. Lower back. No other symptoms. I went to bed on Sunday night and woke up lying on my back, took a breath and boom, back pain city. Ever since, it’s been fairly consistent. Not severe (except for when I woke up at 5am and took a breath). It’s a dull ache. It radiates around my lower back from the middle to the sides/flank. No other symptoms (again).
My girlfriend bought us a brand new mattress on Thursday evening. Didn’t sleep good on Friday night, because she worked third shift (I never sleep good while she does those shifts; sleeping without her sucks). Didn’t sleep good on Saturday night, and I have no idea why, because we were out and about all day in 97 degree weather and I was pretty tired, but I struggled to fall asleep. Sunday night… went to bed but woke up with the aforementioned back pain, and it just hasn’t gone away.
I mowed the yard yesterday, and that always gives me back pain. While I don’t think I’m very tall (6’2″; average), mowing the yard always hurts my back because I have to bend forward a little bit to push the lawnmower. Probably didn’t help. Going to bed last night was a motherfucker.
Anyway, maybe it’s all due to stress?
I’m so scared of the future. I’m 26 years old. I just, for the first time ever, accepted my student loans. They are pending. I’m taking online classes, and one physical in person face to face class locally, at a university. The in person class will be local, at the community college I just finished up at. I have a hold on my student account that’s been troubling my mind lately. Anxiety city. Damn. Wish I had another month before classes start, so I can get my shit together, or at least pretend to.
One of my former high school teachers died last Friday. He was my geometry teacher during my junior year of high school in 2007-2008. I didn’t really think he was that great of a teacher — and I did poorly in his class, as a perennial bad math student until lately — but he was a hell of a person. Truly one of a kind. A lifelong heavy metal, all-things-WVU loving headbanger unafraid to say anything, unabashedly himself.
He retired last year. He was diagnosed with cancer in February or March… brain and lung (longtime smoker)… died last Friday.
He posted his phone number on Facebook asking for anybody to call him.
A few times, he asked people to visit him anytime.
He was sent home with hospice on July 5th.
I kept telling myself I was going to call and visit him.
I never did. I feel like a piece of shit for not doing so. I’m going to regret this forever, I feel. A lot of my fears was that, maybe he wouldn’t remember me? I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about how he passed away. He was always so healthy and active and growing his garden and going to heavy metal (Doro) concerts. And now he’s gone.
I get it. People died. I’ve lost more people in my 26 years than most have. All my grandparents, my dad, an uncle who was like a second dad to me, a great friend in 2010, my uncle in January…. it’s rough. But damn, the regret of never going to see him has been hurting my soul deeply.
Even though I eat a diet that — by all accounts, through scientific peer reviewed studies and research — is optimal for testosterone production…. I’ve been an emotional fucking mess.
For example, my girlfriend came home last night after working a 3-11 shift, and she said she heard some crazy noise outside, like footsteps, and she hurried and got in her car. She then said, “I thought I was a goner! And that I’d be dead, and wouldn’t get to see you again” …. and I don’t know fucking why, but replaying what she said a few times made me bawl like a little baby.
I love her so much.
But this depression/emotional state is killing me.
Usually, I love the summertime. Even if it’s hotter than hell and damn near impossible to deal with, it’s usually the happiest time of the year for me, but this has been one of the most stressful, emotionally taxing summers of my life. And I don’t know why.
I’ll never tell her this, but I feel like a burden to my girlfriend. She loves me so much, and I feel like I constantly disappoint her. She’s never expressed, implied or displayed feelings that implicate that, but I feel like I could be doing so much better. I probably kept her up way too late last night with my back pain. So full of guilty feelings today. Holy shit. Just had to get this all written down.