In response to my earlier blog about men who fear commitment/women who are addicted to commitment, several women pointed out that it's often the man who wants commitment when all the woman is looking for is a good time – or at least a sane time. This brings us to “The Nice Guy."
The Nice Guy just wants to find a woman who isn't afraid of opening her heart, a woman who is willing to give him a chance, a woman who will love like she's never been hurt. Sure, she's been hurt before, but that's because she's always dating Assholes. He'll be different. He's a Nice Guy. But she won't give him a chance, because women don't like Nice Guys.
Bullshit.
You're nice, but you're also a needy, clingy, spineless sycophant. "Nice" isn't the reason they won't sleep with you, "nice" is the excuse they give for not sleeping with you. The truth is, you're a boring, bland dud… who is ALSO a nice guy. It's not the "nice" part of that equation that's keeping you lonely. You’re quiet and unassuming, but only because you have nothing to say – you’re like a walking parenthetical with nothing between the parentheses.
And the main reason you are so nice is because it's the only way you can get people to hang out with you. Because you're boring. Stop offering to drive people to the airport and start reading books so you have something to talk about. Stop being a shoulder to cry on, and start being hands that cook and feet that dance and legs that bike and eyes that hunger and a heart that seeks.
Just because you lack negatives, that doesn’t make you a positive. It just makes you a zero. You gotta earn it.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
Fadish tattoos, and the insecure lot who get them
Disclaimer: If you are insecure about your body art, this post will offend you. Not in the way that Kid Rock's existence offends the entire cosmos, nor in the way that Olive Garden offends the entire nation of Italy. More like the way that getting his ass slapped by a teammate offends the football player who then gets an unwanted erection. If you're secure, this won't bug you. And for the record, I was totally thinking about a chick when i got that erection. A female chick.
Tattoos:
I just don’t get it.
And I used to hesitate saying anything about tattoos because people take offense and see it as a personal attack. But then I realized that if they give a shit what I think, then they got their tattoos for the wrong reason. If you love your tattoos, more power to you!!! Revel in them, love them, and don’t give a fuck what anybody else has to say.
I don’t like tattoos. I know it’s a generational thing – when I was young (ssssoooo long ago) the only people who had tattoos were marines and bikers. And thank God(dess) for that, because I came of age during the late 80s. If tattoos had been popular then I shudder to think what images would be speaking their inky heresy from my flesh – a Duran Duran album cover (hello Nagel )? A scrap of Spandau Ballet lyrics? The phoenix from a Trans Am hood? The moon wearing a pair of Ray Bans (“Dude, you don’t get it? Sunglasses at Night! That song ROCKS!”)
There’s a certain arrogance to the act of getting a tattoo, because not only are you saying that this is a great idea, you’re saying that you believe you’ll always think it’s a great idea. A tattoo doesn’t just say “this is what my taste is”, it says that you’re confident that this is what your taste will always be. It’s an assumption that your tastes will never change, develop, evolve, or mature. “Grenades on my biceps – now and forever!” It’s like decorating your college dorm room and then sticking with that exact same look for the rest of your life.
Some people’s bodies become like scrapbooks for fads – a permanent record of things meant to be temporary.
Ooooo barbed wire! I remember 1998!
Cherries?! Oh, 2001, what a magical year you were.
Chinese characters?! 2003, that takes me back.
And do you ever get the feeling that one day in 2007, 10 million women simultaneously said “You know what, I’m going to get a star tattoo. No one has star tattoos!” And then the next morning they all looked at each other and said “Oh, well son of a bitch. Wait, what time did you get yours done? 10:45? Ha! Got mine done at 10:30… I was so far ahead of you.”
The problem is you have no control over who else gets the same tattoo as you-- remember when you first saw a guy with a tribal tattoo on his arm and you thought “Ya, that looks kinda cool"-- now you see a guy with a tribal tattoo on his arm you're like "douchebag! DOUCHE BAG!!!" Congratulations, you are now part of a tribe you never wanted to belong to – “We are the Tribe of Poor Decision Makers. We have a Tribal Tattoo, a rowing machine in the closet, the DVD box set of Friends, several pairs of Crocs, and a “W. 04” bumper sticker. So many mistakes…so many, many mistakes”
There are the more original ‘statement’ tattoos, which I never understood either. “This tattoo says a lot about who I am.” Oh. I thought who you are was supposed to say a lot about who you are – I didn’t realize you could just put a label on yourself:
“I’m sexy! You can tell, because right here it says “Sexxy!”
Oh, ya. Right above where it says “classy”. Nice.
My favorite statement tattoo – someone had the phrase “This too shall pass” tattooed on her wrist. A laudable sentiment, but is there no small irony in the idea of having a philosophy of impermanence recorded in permanent inks? “This too shall pass” seems a sentiment more appropriate for a transitory medium, like an Etch-A-Sketch or a GM warranty.
Seriously, just think about it first. If your first thought is “I want a tattoo” and then your second thought is ‘Now, what should I get…” then you probably shouldn’t get a tattoo. Talk to someone who has a lot of tattoos, and ask how many of them are covering up older, even shittier tattoos. Notice the trend: if someone at 25 has to cover up the mistakes of 20, chances are they’re going to be back there at 30 wondering what the hell they were thinking at 25.
Regret should live in your heart, not on your flesh.
Tattoos:
I just don’t get it.
And I used to hesitate saying anything about tattoos because people take offense and see it as a personal attack. But then I realized that if they give a shit what I think, then they got their tattoos for the wrong reason. If you love your tattoos, more power to you!!! Revel in them, love them, and don’t give a fuck what anybody else has to say.
I don’t like tattoos. I know it’s a generational thing – when I was young (ssssoooo long ago) the only people who had tattoos were marines and bikers. And thank God(dess) for that, because I came of age during the late 80s. If tattoos had been popular then I shudder to think what images would be speaking their inky heresy from my flesh – a Duran Duran album cover (hello Nagel )? A scrap of Spandau Ballet lyrics? The phoenix from a Trans Am hood? The moon wearing a pair of Ray Bans (“Dude, you don’t get it? Sunglasses at Night! That song ROCKS!”)
There’s a certain arrogance to the act of getting a tattoo, because not only are you saying that this is a great idea, you’re saying that you believe you’ll always think it’s a great idea. A tattoo doesn’t just say “this is what my taste is”, it says that you’re confident that this is what your taste will always be. It’s an assumption that your tastes will never change, develop, evolve, or mature. “Grenades on my biceps – now and forever!” It’s like decorating your college dorm room and then sticking with that exact same look for the rest of your life.
Some people’s bodies become like scrapbooks for fads – a permanent record of things meant to be temporary.
Ooooo barbed wire! I remember 1998!
Cherries?! Oh, 2001, what a magical year you were.
Chinese characters?! 2003, that takes me back.
And do you ever get the feeling that one day in 2007, 10 million women simultaneously said “You know what, I’m going to get a star tattoo. No one has star tattoos!” And then the next morning they all looked at each other and said “Oh, well son of a bitch. Wait, what time did you get yours done? 10:45? Ha! Got mine done at 10:30… I was so far ahead of you.”
The problem is you have no control over who else gets the same tattoo as you-- remember when you first saw a guy with a tribal tattoo on his arm and you thought “Ya, that looks kinda cool"-- now you see a guy with a tribal tattoo on his arm you're like "douchebag! DOUCHE BAG!!!" Congratulations, you are now part of a tribe you never wanted to belong to – “We are the Tribe of Poor Decision Makers. We have a Tribal Tattoo, a rowing machine in the closet, the DVD box set of Friends, several pairs of Crocs, and a “W. 04” bumper sticker. So many mistakes…so many, many mistakes”
There are the more original ‘statement’ tattoos, which I never understood either. “This tattoo says a lot about who I am.” Oh. I thought who you are was supposed to say a lot about who you are – I didn’t realize you could just put a label on yourself:
“I’m sexy! You can tell, because right here it says “Sexxy!”
Oh, ya. Right above where it says “classy”. Nice.
My favorite statement tattoo – someone had the phrase “This too shall pass” tattooed on her wrist. A laudable sentiment, but is there no small irony in the idea of having a philosophy of impermanence recorded in permanent inks? “This too shall pass” seems a sentiment more appropriate for a transitory medium, like an Etch-A-Sketch or a GM warranty.
Seriously, just think about it first. If your first thought is “I want a tattoo” and then your second thought is ‘Now, what should I get…” then you probably shouldn’t get a tattoo. Talk to someone who has a lot of tattoos, and ask how many of them are covering up older, even shittier tattoos. Notice the trend: if someone at 25 has to cover up the mistakes of 20, chances are they’re going to be back there at 30 wondering what the hell they were thinking at 25.
Regret should live in your heart, not on your flesh.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
