My Journal 116

I have mentioned to most of you that I frequent a FIGHT CLUB. I was recently asked what a fight club was. So I figured we needed to discuss this.

When I was living in a rat infested hotel on the south side of town, I still tried my best to keep in shape. So I ran up and down the freeway. One day on my run I noticed a lot of cars turning into this tiny road off of the feeder near my hotel. So I jog down the road. This is how I found this particular fight club.

Two types of people go there. One type goes there to bet on the fights. Every bet is cash, paid in advance, and settled immediately when winner is announced. The other type is the fighters. Guys who have a grudge, want to stay in shape, or just have a fucked up life and need to vent . . . like me.

The first few times I went I just bet. I was trying to get the “lay of the land”. But being the competitor that I am, I was dying to get into the cage and brawl. So I finally paid my money and asked for a fight. What happens next is they compare all the people who have paid and try to match people by age, height and weight to keep it semi fair. My problem was that there was no one willing to fight me the first time.

No, not because I looked like a bad ass. I had on sandals, gym shorts, and an old tank top. I seriously doubt that the look frightened anyone. The problem was my age. First, the management had never had someone my age request a fight. The average age is about 21 to 25. The management was worried that I would be hurt or something. Also, the house takes a cut of the action. They figured no one would bet on me, so they wouldn’t be able to make a buck. So the first time I paid they refunded my money.

But I went back. The second time someone was so anxious to fight that they agreed to fight me. The challenge they face is that they are young and tough kids. If they fight someone as mature as me then it is expected that they win. So if they win it’s no big deal because they were supposed to win. But if they lose it is total humiliation. So it is a big risk for one of these young guys to accept a fight with me. But this kid did.

He was a 6’6” 290 pound, 23 year old Hispanic boxer. He was in decent shape, but I did notice needle marks so he may have had a slight problem. For those who don’t know me, I am 6’1” and about 200 pounds. So he towered over me. The management again was concerned, not so much about my health or sanity, but more about the bets.

I knocked they guy out in 30 seconds.

The second time I went I was a commodity. Everyone wanted to fight me, and the betting was raucous. The big guys wanted to fight me as well as the small “scrappers”. Each wanted to try and find my weakness. I sort of felt like a celebrity. My next two fights were both first round knockouts as well. By the way, you fight three - three minute rounds and ANYTHING goes. You are locked in a cage with no gloves or shoes. There is a referee, but for most of my fights he was drunk. You fight until one can’t get up or taps out. Simple, right?

When I was a child I was constantly having aggression problems. I was tested and found that there is some chemical that is released when a male is in a stressful situation. Both my brother and I had an “over-abundance” of this chemical on a regular basis. So we were constantly in an adrenalin induced frenzy. When we did become stressed, more of this chemical was released into our system causing us to become rather violent and aggressive. My folks decided that best way to handle this wasn’t drugs, but to keep us constantly active. So we boxed, wrestled, played football and ran track year round. For the most part that worked. But the both of us had a tendency to get into more trouble than most kids our age.

As an adult, when this feeling came over me I would simply pick a fight with someone. To be fair, I always picked someone much larger than myself and I did study them for a while to make sure I felt that they knew how to handle themselves. So it was never a case where I beat up some little, drunken punk.

But I have been picked up a few times and it was getting to be a problem. So being able to pay a small amount to fight, knowing you won’t be arrested, and picking up a few bucks when you win was right up my alley. Thus my interest and need for this type of stimulation.

My fourth fight was a bit more complicated, but to me it was more competition. So I really enjoyed it the most. I fought an ex-Green Beret with training in Aikido. He was a formidable opponent and I actually took a bit of a beating. But I did finally end it with a third round TKO.

Anyway, that is what I do sometimes. I can release stress, vent my anger, forget my problems, and get a decent workout at the same time. I mention this today because I am again at the point where I am frustrated. So tonight I will visit my club and see if anyone will fight. The last time I went no one would accept my money. I mean to get in the ring with a guy my age, who has knocked out everyone he has challenged, isn’t what an amateur would consider a fun evening.

Actually, sex has the same “relaxing” effect on me. But the problem I have is that when I am in this mood I am more aggressive sexually. I do prefer to “pleasure” my partner. Yet when I find sex while in my adrenalin induced funk, it’s more of just a banging session. And I do have a reputation to protect.

But I will see. If not, check the newspaper in the morning because I will find a “stress-release” somewhere.

Have a great weekend.

My Journal 115

I was starting to write about the things I never did, like the “it’s good I didn’t do that” good things. The first thing that came to my mind was that I have never hit a woman. The closest I came was in Junior High I pushed a 19 year old female who was beating my older sister. But I never hit, struck, kicked, slapped, or laid a hand on a woman.

There may have been times that I should have . . . .

I am kidding. There is never a time to strike a woman. And I am proud to add that to my list of PROUD attributes.

So, I listed this one thing first and suddenly I decided that this should be what I discuss today. I’ve got a message for my female dominated audience and I think it needs to resonate loudly.

IF A GUY EVER TOUCHES YOU, LEAVE HIM IMMEDIATELY AND NEVER GO BACK.

I am dead serious. Being a guy that has never touched a woman violently, I can assure you that some guys will do that. And I can promise you that if they do that once, then they will do it again . . . and again . . . AND AGAIN. They may cry to you about their actions, buy you nice shit to make up for it, take you for a nice dinner, or something equally as nice. But, it WILL happen again.

If you survive the first attack (and yes, striking a woman is an attack) and then you take him back; then the message you are sending is that whatever beating you took was acceptable to you. Now you have set the standard. The “dirt bag” will now believe that beating you in a similar fashion is ok with you. He will then want to test the limits. So the next beating will be worse.

What sometimes just blows me away is why women will stay in an abusive relationship; and how if a woman is in one, and does leave, she tends to end up in a similar relationship again. What is even more amazing to me is when I see a woman who can literally have ANYONE that she wants and yet she is with a guy that is abusive.

Since I have NEVER struck a woman then I feel qualified to give this advice. Leave the abusive man. If you are afraid, call me. I have told you a hundred times that I suck at fighting, but what I didn’t tell you is that I am EXCELLENT and inflicting pain on someone. I will deal with the situation for you if you need it.

But then again, if you have been reading along and fostering my previous advice; you probably are a PERFECT WOMAN already and will never tolerate someone like that.

So tell a friend!

My Journal 114

What did I learn on my birthday?

First, I have a scent.

Yup, I was given a bottle of cologne. I did my usual, smiling and thanking people while not really sure what certain gifts are. I said I would definitely try out this cologne. And everyone laughed.

“Try it out?” as the table all chuckled. “This has ALWAYS been your scent”

I opened the box to examine the bottle. To my utter amazement, it looked like the same bottle I spray on every morning. So I thought back, since I was just told that this had always been my scent. As far back as I could remember I had always used this cologne. I have just never realized that this was the only cologne I had ever used.

So I have a scent, no one is asking me to change it either. So I guess I also have a good scent.

Second, I am still a bad ass.

Upon driving up to the house after my birthday feast, being followed by 6 car loads of people; I found a man walking down the driveway and away from the house.

Odd?!?!?

So I stopped my car and hopped out. I was later told how stupid an act this was as he could have been armed. But seriously, my logic has always been that some of the most dangerous and deadly people in the world have wanted me dead on more than one occasion; yet here I still stand while most of them are long gone. So some schmuck walking down my driveway doesn’t scare me a bit.

Anyway, I used my big boy – authoritative voice and got the man’s attention. In a matter of seconds he was on his knees begging me not to hurt him.

So if that “Opie looking mutha fucker” that threatened me a month ago is reading along, be careful! Not only will I stop you, I will embarrass you, humiliate you, permanently damage you, and send you back to your woman knowing with all certainty that the best you would ever be able to hope for is to be the second "baddest" SOB on the planet.

Third, the people who wished me a happy birthday are the people who care.

The ONE that didn’t call shouldn’t be the one I focus on. I have some people who enjoy hearing from me, check on me if they don’t hear from me, do for me when I ask, and give a shit if I am ok. So if you didn’t call then you don’t care . . . . and neither do I.

Fourth, I still got it!

Now technically this happened Monday, but I include it in my overall birthday weekend since I hadn’t slept since Thursday night. But it proves that I can still charm the pants off of hot ladies . . . even when I am not trying.

I am at a party, stuck doing the bathroom detail. Yup, I was mopping up after people’s piss and plunging toilets that had overflowed. Exciting, right?

But a very attractive Hispanic lady was returning from the restroom and noticed some pictures on the wall. She stopped to admire them, so I spoke to her (There was really nothing else to do at the moment) I pointed out that each picture had a plaque next to it describing the picture. She began reading and mentioned that these interested her because of the town that she grew up in.

Hey, it was my home town also!

So we talked, and shared stories about our home town. Then she walks right up to me, smiling all the way, extends her hand and introduces herself to me formally. That was impressive.

But then she just stands there. I don’t like those “dead” moments, but I had no idea what was on her mind. So I paused also. But finally I gave in and asked if there was something else she needed. She grinned, placed her hand on my cheek and said, “Well sexy, if you are not going to ask me out then I will just call the office, ask for you, and ask YOU out. Talk to you Friday.”

With that she winked and returned to the party. Damn I’m still good!

Have a SUPER day.

My Journal 113

Sooooo tired!!!!

Anyone that knows me already knows that the worst thing to do to me is give me nothing to do. I have to be doing something until I pass out from exhaustion. I bore easily.

I also hate being touched from behind. I can’t stand massages. It probably goes back to my trust issues.

And I hate the cold. Give me 100 degrees and I am happy.

But today, I just want to stretch out naked on a large bed, with the Air conditioning blowing right on me and a dozen fans whirling around me, and have some sexy lady rub my back until I sleep for 20 hours.

WTF is wrong with me????

Any volunteers?

MY BIRTHDAY

Since today is my BIRTHDAY here are some BIRTHDAY JOKES.

A Blonde airhead goes for a job interview in an office.
The interviewer starts with the basics.

"So, Miss, can you tell us your age, please?"

The blonde counts carefully on her fingers for half a minute before replying "Ehhhh... 22!"

The interviewer tries another straightforward one to break the ice. "And can you tell us your height, please?"

The young lady stands up and produces a measuring tape from her handbag. She then traps one end under her foot and extends the tape to the top of her head. She checks the measurement and announces "Five foot two!"

This isn't looking good so the interviewer goes for the real basics; something the interviewee won't have to count, measure, or lookup.

"Just to confirm for our records, your name please?"

The airhead bobs her head from side to side for about ten seconds, mouthing something silently to herself, before replying "MANDY!"

The interviewer is completely baffled at this stage, so he asks -
"What in the world were you doing when I asked you your name?"

"Ohhhh, that!" replies the airhead... " I was just running through that song - 'Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear...' "

~~~

Birthdays are good for you. Statistics show that the people who have the most live the longest.

I WANT!

I WANT!

I want somebody to share
Share the rest of my life
Share my innermost thoughts
Know my intimate details
Someone who’ll stand by my side
And give me support
And in return
She’ll get my support
She will listen to me
When I want to speak
About the world we live in
And life in general
Though my views may be wrong
They may even be perverted
She’ll hear me out
And won’t easily be converted
To my way of thinking
In fact she’ll often disagree
But at the end of it all
She will understand me

I want somebody who cares
For me passionately
With every thought and
With every breath
Someone who’ll help me see things
In a different light
All the things I detest
I will almost like
I don’t want to be tied
To anyone’s strings
I’m carefully trying to steer clear of
Those things
But when I’m asleep
I want somebody
Who will put their arms around me
And kiss me tenderly
Though things like this
Make me sick
In a case like this
I’ll get away with it

My Journal 112

First, since NONE of you replied to my dating advice request I will assume that you don’t care. But for the record I did contact Cabana Girl, she couldn’t go out Friday night so we met last night, and I had a revelation which I will share next week.

Second, my guest writer bailed on me. Because of this there will be no journal tomorrow. Since tomorrow is my day though, I will instead describe for you today how the perfect birthday weekend would go if everything in the universe aligns properly, my god forgives me of all of my sins, and the sun rises in the WEST.

Ok, it is a FANTASY so if I write anything that offends any of you  . . . get over it.

To begin with, each of my friends would give me the right to ask one question of each of them. They would HAVE to answer it honestly and hold no grudge for me asking. And no, I will not let you know today what questions I would ask. That gets to stay with me.

Ok, on to my fantasy birthday weekend. AND REMEMBER THIS IS JUST A FANTASY!

[Lord you guys are gonna hate me for this!]

I would wake up to find out that the SA chick has snuck into my room and proceeded to place her head in my lap (if you know what I mean). She is EXTREMELY good at this job. Now since you are mostly females you have no idea how this feels from a male perspective. It is amazing to begin with, but to actually wake up and find it going on is way beyond our farthest expectations.

Then I drag my ass to work (Yes, I do have to work on my birthday). I arrive to find that someone has made me Sunshine’s magical breakfast dessert and left a double size piece at my desk with a large cup of coffee. I literally stuff myself with this heavenly dish smiling the entire time.

Then, the owner (who is also my boss and partner) comes up to me and announces that because of my hard work in growing and maintaining this company he will raise me to what my market value would be. FYI, that would be a 200% pay increase. Then, on top of that he agrees to give me the back pay I’ve forfeited over the past 14 years and hands me a check for the difference.

Then he ACTUALLY says “Thank you” (Never heard him say that before EVER!)

I then check my email and find that Lovelygirl has sent me one of her amazingly hot stories. I become sooooo excited that I have to remain at my desk for over an hour after reading it. I mean this chick can burn up the paper with her words. Geez, I’m getting to excited just thinking about it.

Oh, and she includes another smokin’ hot picture!

Then I get a call from LL inviting me to lunch. Even though she works near me now, and always HAS to pick the place where we dine, I force her to let me take her somewhere this one time (I mean it is my birthday, right?). Well, actually it’s BOTH our birthdays. Hers is today and mine is tomorrow; and we have spent every birthday together since we met. . except for last year. So we go back to Kemah, where we went many years ago and had a fabulous time.

We spend our lunch chatting, laughing, and tossing around our usual sexual innuendo at a table outside on the dock. I mention the SA chick and make the comment that she is the reigning champion. Since LL is an Aries as well, she can’t refuse the challenge and we slip off for an hour of private time. This is just so I can honestly judge and hand out the trophy . . . honest?!?!?

Once I recuperate from the “private time”, I get a call from Kat saying she wants to have me over to her new place for one of our WILD ASS PARTY NIGHTS. I decide to cut work for the rest of the day and race over to Kat’s place. And trust me when I say that the word WILD is usually an understatement.

We party all night long. It’s rowdy, goofy, crazy and just plain fun. She has her partner with her and they invite more of their lesbian friends, who spend most of the evening massaging and kissing on each other.

I wake up the next morning half naked and wondering if I did in fact convert at least one lesbian.

I am heading back to my place for some much needed sleep, when I get a call from my best-est friend Banana-Rama. She is in town and wants to have lunch with me. I quickly shower to wash the smell of beer, tequila, cigarettes, and other smoke related odors from my body. I then race to the lunch location we agreed upon.

[FYI, I haven’t seen Banana-Rama live or in pictures for over four years so this is HUGE!]

As usual, she makes me smile from the very first moment. We eat chili cheese burgers, French fries and drink beer. Well, I drink beer while she has a glass of iced tea. We discuss our love lives, bash people, catch up on other people, and genuinely have a ball. Then being typical me, I remind her of a one-time promise and suggest that my birthday weekend is definitely not a good time to say no.

Due to the psychological pressure I apply and out of immense frustration, she finally concedes and reaches under the table. All the while she is sipping her tea with the other hand and looking around the restaurant to avoid being noticed, and still giving the impression of being a lady.

Afterwards (Ummm) I head back to my place. It is now a beautiful and sunny spring afternoon. So I slip on my swim trunks and head out to my pool for an afternoon of fun in the sun. And that is when I get my greatest surprise yet.

Sunshine is standing by the pool, clad in a very skimpy bikini, high heels and holding a pitcher of her very own margaritas. She has driven in just to celebrate my birthday with me. I am so DAMN happy!!!

We spend the entire afternoon talking, laughing, drinking, swimming and tanning. It is the perfect afternoon in the sun with rock music blaring. And seeing Sunshine in a bikini is a fantastic present. But we’re not through yet. I suggest we go out for dinner . . . . and she agrees.

We head inside to shower and change. (Yes, separate rooms . . I will explain later). Of course I am ready first so I help myself to a nice bourbon and coke; I mean it is after 5 by now. As I am relaxing with my drink, Sunshine enters the room. She is elegantly wardrobe in a stunning low cut dress and heels, and looks absolutely incredible.

We go to a quiet restaurant where we enjoy a quiet and romantic dinner for two. We have one of our “high level topic” discussions, bounce far reaching concepts off of each other, and basically have mental intercourse. It is the perfect dinner with the perfect date for me.

I return her to her vehicle so she can return to her place. Sorry ladies but she has someone else waiting up for her, so there will be no “private time” here. But I am still thrilled to have spent one day with her on a purely platonic basis. (Albeit in my mind I banged the crap out of her a dozen times!)

[Yes, she had a permission slip from her man or I wouldn’t have socialized with her!]

I fall asleep knowing that I have absolutely the best friends in the world and that I just had the best birthday weekend in recorded history.