analog binder blank book

Issues. I have issues, you have issues, we all have issues. I’m not talking about things like diabetes, stage four cancer, heart disease, or even something like high blood pressure. Those are issues. Those are things that if you don’t handle them, they will eventually handle you.

I’m talking about “other” issues. I’m talking about your receding hair. I’m talking about your scars on your body. I’m talking about your crooked teeth. I’m talking about your lack of height. I’m talking about your body hair, or your lack of it. These are the issues I’m talking about.

Guys, here’s the deal:

It will only be an issue for her, if it’s an issue for you. It’s not an issue unless you make it an issue.

As Jack Napier has said many times on Red Evenings, “it’s Story Time With Rob…” So here we go.

A little while back I met a woman. She’s smart, she’s energetic, she’s vivacious. She has kept her body in great shape. She knows how to make an entrance when she walks into a room. Everybody notices her when she does it. That’s how I noticed her.

This woman and I got to bantering, teasing, shit talking each other. We were flirting. The conversation moves and flows like it does, and at some point she started talking about her scars on her body. “I look like I’ve been cut in half,” is what she said to me. That’s a direct quote. Well, that picqued my curiosity. I had to know what a woman who had been cut in half looked like. I had images in my mind that made her look atrocious. I told her I wanted to see her scars, I wanted to know what they looked like, what she looked like, and so she showed me. She lifted up her shirt to expose her flat belly, and pulled down slightly on her jeans. And there they were. The Scars.

She has had an emergency hysterectomy when she was younger. If she hadn’t had it, she might well have not lived. So here’s this scar. Sure, it’s noticable, it’s definitely there. But you know what? It wasn’t a big deal to me. She definitely didn’t look like she had been “cut in half.” I believe my words to her were, “Oh. Is that it? That’s the big show? That all you got? I’ll be honest, I’m a little disappointed, I was expecting more.”

It wasn’t a big deal to me. In fact, if I had seen it before she had ever mentioned it to me, I don’t honestly know if I would have “seen” it. Same with some scar she had on her arm from…whatever. It was barely there and if she hadn’t pointed it out, I wouldn’t have noticed it.

Then she brought up her “laugh lines and crow’s feet.” She wants to get botox injections to get rid of them because they make her look “old.” Now, if she has an actual issue with something, by all means, do something about it. But I didn’t even notice those lines around her eyes and mouth until she pointed them out to me. Personally, I don’t know what she’s going on about, she looked perfectly fine to me. Beautiful in her own way.

Guys, it’s not an issue unless you make it an issue.

I used to be hung up about my receding hair. It was an issue for me. Every time I talked to somebody, especially an attractive woman, I always thought, “they aren’t looking at me, they are looking at my receding hairline.” And they were! Because I made it an issue. So what did I do? I shaved my head. That receding hairline issue? Yeah it went away immediately. Nowadays, I know they are looking at my bald head. What else are they going to look at? My feet? Their feet? Of course I’m bald, if I was any more bald, you would be seeing my skull.

I used to make my height, or lack of it, an issue. And so it was. Everybody noticed that I was short. It was an issue because I made it an issue. Nothing I can do about it though, so I let it go, I gave it up. I stopped worrying about it and making it an issue. So did everybody else. It’s funny to me now, I mention my height and people are like, “You’re not that short! You have to be at least 5’8!” That’s how people see me now. I guess I “walk tall” and carry myself tall.

Same with my teeth. They aren’t the straightest teeth in the world. I used to let that bother me, not enough to go and get braces or orthodontic work done, but enough that I wouldn’t do a lot of open mouth smiles. I’ve learned to let that one go too and not worry about it too much. You know what I hear a lot of? “You have a beautiful smile.”

Stop making things an issue. If you are a little bit overweight, it will only show up if you make it show up. If you are grossly overweight or morbidly obese, that is an issue. That is your health on the line right there. Do something about that.

Do you have a lot of body hair like I do? Own it. Trim it up or wax it if you must, but otherwise just own it. The women that show up in my life absolutely love the fact that I’m hairy. It turns them on. They love rubbing their hands in it and playing with it. It gets them purring.

Don’t have a lot of body hair? It’s not an issue unless you make it one. The women that will show up for you will like you as you are as long as you are good with you, as long as you are comfortable in your own skin.

So you can be a short, bald, hairy guy like me and still get a lot of attention from women, because your issues aren’t issues, or you can have your issues and the women will have issues with your issues. Stop getting in your own way. Stop “stepping on your own dick.”

Here’s a little fun thing I’ve observed over time:

Every woman I’ve met, every single one of them, has their own issues. Whether it’s stretch marks, scars, cellulite, laugh lines, crows feet, crooked teeth, thinning hair, moles and freckles on their bodies, small breasts, flat ass, too big of breasts, saggy breasts, too big of an ass, or…You name it. I think I’ve heard it all. Younger women are intimidated by older women who have “more experience,” and older women are intimidated by younger women because they are “younger, hotter, tighter,” and that they’ll be replaced by that younger woman.

So if women have all all these insecurities and hang ups, and they do, why are you intimidated by them? What is there to be afraid of? They are just as, if not more, insecure than you. They have their own issues, just like you do. Their issues and insecurities aren’t flaws, it just brings out their humanity. Just like your issues and flaws bring out yours.

When you stop making your shit an issue, they’ll stop making it an issue too.

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person on a bridge near a lake

I’ve had some people reach out to me recently, asking me about Stoicism. I’m flattered and surprised that they are asking me about it, because frankly, what I am and what I do, I don’t consider “textbook” stoicism as it were. I don’t even know if I would call it stoicism at all. I’m just doing “me.”

I think I’ve got Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations somewhere. I think I have it on my Kindle. I think I’ve even read bits of it here and there. Honestly I don’t remember and I don’t really care. Beating off to dead philosphers has never really been my gig. There’s a world of experience to be had with the living that I would rather do than read philosophy.

My “brand” of stoicism would be ZFG. Zero Fucks Given. I don’t give a fuck what you think for the most part and I don’t give a fuck if you do or don’t give a fuck about that. I do me, that’s what I do.

How did I get “here” though? Maybe that’s the question that I’m being asked, even if not in those words.

Two major things happened that got me “here.”

  1. My mother died.
  2. A relationship that I had, that I didn’t want to end, and was terrified that it would end, ended.

Both happened within two weeks of each other. Back to back blows.

And I’m still here. I’m still walking, living, and breathing. I’m still standing. I’ve survived. I survived “it.”

I went through a period of grief and mourning for both deaths, and then I got on with living. As if there’s another alternative. If I survived that, I believe I can survive anything.

I gave up my fear. (For more on that, you should have signed up for the Masculine Geek newsletter, I talked about it there) I gave up my expectations of outcomes and was willing to see what would show up. I let go of disappointment for the most part. I made a choice to enjoy my life and I know that “good” times and “bad” times happen. I know that women will walk into my life and that they will also walk out of it too. Or I’ll walk out of theirs. Either way, there will always be another.

I realized that nobody gives a shit what I do or what I think. And that’s one of the most liberating things that happened to me. Since nobody gives a shit, I can do pretty much whatever I want. I know I’m not for everybody, I’m not everybody’s “cup of tea.” Nor are they mine. And that’s totally okay.

I don’t try and keep people in my life, I don’t try and hold them back from whatever it is that they seek. They are welcome to be around me for as long as they like or as long as I like. When they go, that’s okay, others will show up to take their place eventually. I’ll remember them and I choose to enjoy their company for the time that we share our lives in whatever form. I learn from them and I imagine they learn from me too. Maybe they do, maybe they don’t. That part, that’s on them.

I gave up arguing with people, especially random motherfuckers on the internet. What a total waste of time and air. They get to burn. Just like I got to burn. Just like I’m positive that I’ll set myself on fire and burn again.

I learned to vote with my attention as well as my wallet. I only give attention and money to those things and people that I happen to care about, otherwise, fuck ’em. I’m okay with being the villain.

I know for a fact that I’ve covered all of this before in other posts and even in videos. So why am I going over it again? Because people asked and I’m trying the best way I can to describe my mental and emotional state I guess.

In some ways, all of how I got “here” took many experiences and a lot of time, and at the same time, it literally feels like one day I woke up, and here I was. Poof! Just like that.

I really have to thank Rian Stone. That Man popped my outrage bubble for me. I can’t control the bullshit that is against Men, even though Men aren’t the target audience. At least not my demographic. That was a huge vote with your attention moment for me. Huge. Rian, if you read this, thank you. And if you ever get to Salt Lake City, Utah, the drinks are on me.

I’m going to sound like I’m going off topic here, but bear with me, I promise I’m not.

Why do we lie to ourselves and each other? Rhetorical question. I believe at least one answer is because we are afraid of losing something. We lie to women because we don’t want to lose them as an “option.” We lie to them in order to get the pussy, to get laid. We lie because we get lonely. And women lie to us for similar reasons. We lie to ourselves because we put expectations on ourselves that we haven’t met. We don’t want to be losers. We don’t want to be seen as losers. We still care what other people think of us. We still give a fuck.

When you stop giving a fuck, you can be honest with yourself and with others. I’m not advocating intentional rudeness and being a douche or a sadistic prick. But when you are honest you become a breath of fresh air for yourself and for others, that’s the only way I can describe it. You let down your guard and they let theirs down too. That’s been my experience anyways. Don’t be naive and don’t eat paint (as Rian would say) but you get the idea. At least I hope you do.

I’m honest with the women that I meet and interact with. I know what I want, the question is, is it something that they want? If yes, great! Let’s do this! If not, no big deal. Thank you for your time, I enjoyed our moment, and it was a pleasure meeting you. And then move on.

Guys, I’m here to LIVE. I don’t have time for your morality crusade if that’s what you’re on. I don’t give a fuck about it. I want to live every moment to the hilt. I live in the present and I don’t dwell on the past. The past is the past. You can’t change it, undo it, or rewrite it, so fuck it, let it go. I don’t worry too much about the future either. “Men plan and God laughs.” I have ideas of where I want to go, what I want to see, and what I want to do, but I’m flexible enough to adapt as the situation warrants. And if it doesn’t work out the way that I envisioned? Fuck it. There’s always another opportunity. Or maybe, just maybe, it worked out even better than I had thought it would? Wrap your heads around that one.

I keep moving ever forward. I keep on keeping on. I learned to get out of my head and into my body. I stopped over-analyzing every little thing. I stopped overthinking things. Sometimes there is no hidden meaning there for you to discover. Sometimes the only meaning for something is whatever meaning you choose to give it. Sometimes things are only important because you give a fuck and make them important. The rest of the world doesn’t give a shit, so keep that in mind.

It’s kind of difficult for me to write about this subject because it requires me to give it a lot of thought and I’m used to just “doing” it. I guess I’ve “internalized” it or whatever.

I’m tired of rambling, so I’ll wrap it up with this:

Good times and bad times come and go. Women come and go. Nobody gives a shit, so neither should you. (Hey that rhymes! Sort of.) Stop being afraid of yourself and others. Start pushing the envelope and see what happens, you’ll find out more often than not, that people will go along with whatever it is you are doing or wanting to do. Be honest with yourself about what you want. Ideally, be honest with others about it too. They can’t actually use it against you as a weapon if you do. And if they do? You’ll survive. You’ll still find yourself standing. If you do fall on your ass though, or get put on your ass? Get back up and keep going.

Guys, for the record, this isn’t despair or nihilism. This is life. It is what it is. You can choose to enjoy it or you can be miserable in it. It’s up to you.

Go back and read the last year of my blog. Besides my love affair with women, and a few rants, all of what I’ve been talking about here is in there in one form or another.

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Not Fucking Is The New Kewl

The New Virtue Signalling

Not fucking doesn’t make you cool. It just makes you inexperienced.

According to recent developments in my “corner” of the Twitterverse, abstaining (i.e. not fucking) is the new cool. Now it’s not about how much experience you have, but the experience of not having. The above screenshot was a reply to a thread that was started by a epiphany phase woman, here’s the original tweet that started it all:


“For the record, I find men that have restraint over their biological urges and deeper goals than “getting laid” as quite impressive.” Apparently, in order to be “a Real Man” these days, you shouldn’t be fucking. Your abstinence and restraint are what make you “a Real Man” in 2019. Who knew?

“I want a Man with very little experience!” – Said no woman ever.

Guys, if you are going to actually listen to this form of nonsense, you’ll just be chasing your tails. You get experience with women by doing things with women. Fucking is doing something with women. Fucking is experience. It may not be the be all, end all of experiences, but it’s up there. I’ve met plenty of women who I had very little in common with, other than sex, who kept coming back for more, than the other way around.

All of the women that I’ve had the pleasure to meet, whether I had sex with them or not, wanted or want, a Man with experience. And by experience, yes, they meant in the bedroom. Young women, older women, short women, tall women, thin women, fat women, it didn’t matter. All of them want or wanted a Man with experience.

I don’t know why, but the original post smacks of dishonesty and disingeniousness for me. It’s a bald-face lie as far as I’m concerned. And the reply that I posted above it is nothing but virtue signalling on another level.

“Don’t judge a man by the number of women he sleeps with but, rather, the number of women he decides not to sleep with, because he thinks it would be inappropriate, to do so.” Do you know what’s inappropriate? Turning down a woman who you are sexually turned on by, and she is turned on by you. Actually, maybe it’s not inappropriate, but it’s fucking stupid.

Here’s something to understand:

If a woman presents herself to you and wants to have sex with you, and you turn her down, you’ll never get another chance with her, and that’s okay if you don’t want to have sex with her. But if you do want to have sex with her, good luck salvaging that one.

“I can’t have sex with you, that would be inappropriate.” You have no idea how many times I had to hit backspace and type that one over again. I couldn’t keep a straight face and I couldn’t stop laughing. I kept misspelling it and fucking it up.

I’ve not met a woman to date that had or has an issue with my so-called “notch count.” They don’t care how I got my experience. They are glad that I have it.


This reply sounds like some guy who belongs to the “Club For Those Who Aren’t Fucking.” Newsflash: You’re not going to humble a woman by not sleeping with her. You’re going to piss her off. And she’ll just go and find someone who will fuck her. This guy is simply justifying his lack of sex. “She wouldn’t fuck me… Well, I didn’t want to fuck her anyways! That’ll show her!”

“The man expresses that he isn’t over-indulgent and also that he is a master, not a slave to his own body.” I think this guy is…I don’t even know where to begin or what to say honestly. I’m not a “slave” to my own body. Nature designed it for fucking, so I fuck when I want to. Being “over-indulgent” is nothing but a morality statement, and you can take your morality statement and shove it up your ass. I’d rather be fucking than not fucking. Indulgence isn’t compulsion. Compulsion is slavery, indulgence is choice. This guy is conflating the two.

How is it “better” for both men and women if the man shows self-restraint? I thought it was better to “scratch that itch,” have an orgasm, and enjoy each other? War is Peace. Slavery is Freedom. Abstinence is Sex. Restraint is Release. Jesus wept.

What a world we are now living in. For the longest time, it’s been “worship the woman and her holy vagina.” Now it’s evolving into “The worship of everything about women except their vagina.” – h/t to Rian Stone for this quote.

Men will always want to get laid, it’s hardwired into them. For those who don’t or can’t, I guess it’s turning into, “Well I didn’t want her pussy anyways! Look at me being abstinent and virtuous!” The more things change the more they stay the same really. Welcome to a “New Puritanical Age.”

Fuck it. You want to be a part of the “My Experience Is Not Having Experience Club,” knock yourself out. You get to burn.

Barring that, I guess you can always join a religion that promises virgins in the afterlife for you. Fucking ghosts may be the next “new thing.” Who knows?

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