Love Junkies

affection afterglow backlit blur

For any of my readers out there, whether you are new or returning, I want you to understand something about me. This will help with the rest of this post that I’m writing about today. I’ve always considered myself to be a “big picture” guy. I’ve always been more interested in application than theory for the most part. I don’t like to get bogged down into minutae, and so I try to find ways to “chunk up” as it were. Sayings like, “be attractive, don’t be unattractive,” are hugely appealing to me, as that way I have a lot of leeway where I can make things happen, and not get too caught up in the details. I’m the guy that had a lot of fun in applied psychology where I would try something out and if it worked, great! Do that again until it doesn’t. If it didn’t work out, well shit, let’s try something else. I have never worried too much about the “why’s” of things, I’m far more interested in the “how’s.” There are definitely better writer’s out there that can give you a lot of details, theories, and the “why’s” of something, nothing wrong with that, but for me, I’m the “fly by the seat of the pants” and see what happens guy. This may not be the best approach to doing things, especially when it comes to things of a highly dangerous or technical nature, but hey, I’m still here, breathing and running my mouth, and I’ve still got all my appendages.

That being said, let’s move on…

What do you think is the most powerful drug in the world?

It isn’t meth. It isn’t coke. It isn’t pot, LSD, ‘shrooms, XTC, or alcohol.

It’s “love.”

Now why did I throw quotes around love? Because I’m pretty sure that it’s a complex chemical cocktail that goes on in our heads and bodies. I could throw around words like dopamine, adrenaline, serotonin, ad nauseum, but I’m not going to. I’m also not going to give the word love a divine, mystical, other worldly or other being connotation either. Let’s leave the mystic, magical thinking, mumbo-jumbo out of it for today’s ramble and just agree for now that love is a chemical reaction that goes on in our bodies.

Yes, I know, I’m not being very romantic here. Deal with it.

It’s the highest high you will ever experience. The feelings of it can last longer than any other drug that you happen to ingest in whatever way. Most drugs last a few hours at most, maybe even a day. Seldom longer than that though. Some drugs only last a few minutes before you are either maintaining, sustaining, or chasing after that next high. Gotta take another hit, dose, shot, whatever.

Not love though. That one first hit of it, can go for days, weeks, even months. I would know because I’ve been in love several times throughout the years. I’m not talking about lust, or being horny. Yes, they are similar in nature, but I don’t believe that the rush is as intense nor does it last very long. Being horny or in a state of lust is powerful, but it can be abated pretty quickly. Have an orgasm and the horniness is slaked for the time being.

Love isn’t quite like that though. When I’ve been in love, I couldn’t think straight. The weird part is, on a certain level, I knew this. I don’t know about you guys reading this, but there’s been times in my past where I would get drunk or something, and yet there was this little part of me that was always sober. That part, usually in my brain, at least for descriptive purposes, would usually speak up at some point and say something like, “I just want to be sober right now,” or “What the fuck are you doing?” That last message was the more common one. Usually right after that message, the rest of me that was drunk would say something like, “Whee! Gimme another! Watch this! Hold my beer! Check this out!” And it would all be downhill from there until I actually sobered up.

That’s also how it’s been for me when I’ve been in love. Part of me knows that I can’t think straight, but then the “love drunk” part of me is saying, “Wheee! This is fun! She is awesome and I just want to run naked through her hair, lick every inch of her body, devour every last part of her, consume her, so that she’s inside of me, and burrow my nose and face on her so that I can inhale her.”

When I first met my ex girlfriend, in the very beginning, it was just lust. She looked good and I wanted to fuck and fuck and fuck, but then the love kicked in. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t think straight. I was consumed. It was the highest high. And that high went on for about six months, maybe more. That sober part of me would take control for awhile and things would be “normal” for a bit, but then she would show up, my brain would get a chemical bath, and it was off to the races again.

It’s something else, love. To feel that you have someone that sees you for who you really are. And they accept you for who you really are. They just get you. And they are okay with you being you. They are even turned on by you being you. Powerful stuff. Now these things, are they in fact, “real?” I don’t believe so, not in a literal sense. No one can truly know who you are, nor you them. But it’s what we create in our minds with that chemical bath. Powerful stuff indeed.

Now, I don’t know if this is how everyone is when they first “fall in love.” I would imagine that it’s something like this based on what I’ve heard people say, watched what they do, so on and so forth.

I’m pretty sure that “why” we experience this is hardwired so that we want to procreate and have children, and also the way that we pair bond. Like I said earlier, I’m not going to get into the “science” of it all, and I’m not going to get bogged down into the details. Let’s just leave it at we can all experience love, and it’s what we chase after, day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year. If not, then why do we get up in the morning? Why do we do what we do? Why do we bother with doing anything at all? Why not just lie down and wait to die?

That all being said, I think it (love) is a wonderful thing. It’s a drug though. In my opinion it’s probably the most powerful and potent one out there. We all do some stupid and crazy shit to get a hit of it.

Where am I going with all of this? Here’s the wrap up:

When you, or somebody you know is in love, especially in the beginning, they can’t think straight. They are literally drunk or fucked up. And that’s okay. Hell, I think it’s a function and a feature, not a glitch or a bug in how we are. But keep that in mind when you are dealing with someone that is in love. Their mind isn’t focused or really in the here and now. They can’t think straight. So take whatever they say or do with a grain of salt. Don’t get caught up in their emotional high. Especially when they are handing out advice.

I know that I would give them some space to enjoy the rush and let it course through them, maybe six months or more, before I would take them seriously again. Gotta get through that good shit, if you know what I mean.

At the end of the day, we are all just a bunch of “love” junkies.

Ah “love.” Best drug ever.

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A Brief Interlude

attention caution danger forbidden
Sometimes it’s all you can do.


How are you? I’m fine, how are you?


Knock knock.

“C’mon in!”

“Hey Dad.”

“Hey Son. How ya been? What’s been going on?”

Well Dad, where do I start? I get up and go to a job that is like pretty much every other job, it’s a job. It’s not great, it’s not horrible, it’s okay. They pay better than most, but they did decide to install camera’s in the trucks to monitor the guys better. I’m not thrilled with that. I’ve been down that road before.

I’m exhausted most of the time, I’m tense, and I don’t feel like I get enough sleep. I would cry but there are no tears to come out. I’m dried out that way.

I’ve been drinking more than usual, and more often. I’m medicating my way into/out of a funk.

I don’t feel like I can write enough, podcast enough (even though I know you have no real idea what that is) and yet when I sit down to write, there are more times than not that I’ve got nothing and I think, fuck it, why bother. Thank god for automation and the fact that I have a lot of stuff in the queue. Well, at least I did. But we are getting to the bottom of that well Dad, and I don’t know if there’s anymore water down there to drink.

I vascillate between wanting to do a whole bunch of shit and not do a fucking thing but sit and stare at the walls.

I feel like an outsider with my friends sometimes. I feel like I’m an imposter. Most of the things that they enjoy and find joy in, I could care less about. I don’t have a problem with them liking the things they do, it’s just those things, for me, meh.

I use humor in all sorts of ways to take the edge off. I try and find humor in the ludicrous world that we live in. The alternative is to take it too seriously, and I don’t want to go there. I’ll either laugh my ass off or tear at my face and scream and cry my eyes out, except the tears won’t come. So for the most part Dad, I’ve decided to just enjoy the decline.

I’ve always wanted to be an entertainer of sorts, Dad. Have I ever told you that? Do you remember when I was a teen and played guitar? Do you remember when I was in theater? Even now, I tend to get too serious on my videos, my blog, and even my podcasts, but dammit Dad, I have to find the humor in it all. I don’t need to be an entertainer in the way that you might imagine Dad. I just like to make people laugh and point out the absurd.

You know Dad, when I was younger, there were times when I was too serious? I remember many times, the women I was with, they would say that I was ‘too intense.’ That seriousness and intensity scared them sometimes. Sometimes it scared the pants right back on them.

But other times Dad, other times, I could laugh them all the way to the bedroom. I could laugh the pants right off of them. I could laugh and joke and tease them right into an orgasm. I could laugh right along with them into my own orgasm too. Ever done that Dad? Laughed and joked yourself into cumming? It’s pretty damn good Dad. You should try it if you haven’t.

Humor is underrated Dad. I know you know this. I know that I got my sense of humor from you. The dry wit. The occasional sarcasm. The over-the-top slapstick. And yes, even the gross humor. It’s all from you. I know this and can say this because Mom was never funny. Oh sure, she knew a few jokes, but she was never actually funny. Funny shit happened to her and around her, but she wasn’t actually funny. So yeah, I got it from you. Thanks for that Dad.

And some days Dad, some days, the only thing that keeps me from eating a bullet is the thought of who will take care of my cats when I’m gone? How long will it be before I’m noticed as missing and someone decides to do a welfare check, and welp, there he is. No wonder he didn’t show up for work. But did the cats have to dine on my corpse before that day would come? That’s what stops me Dad, the fact that I don’t want my cats to starve to death or die of thirst. So there’s that.

Other than that…

“I’m fine Dad. Not a whole lot going on. How are you? What have you been up to lately?”


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Independence Day

usa flag waving on white metal pole
It’s not what you think it is.

It’s almost Independence Day here in the United States of America. A time where people usually let off fireworks, drink a bunch of alcohol, have their barbeques, howl at the moon, and revel in the fact that we live in a “free country.”

I’m not going to talk about all of that today. What I am going to talk about is Easy Rider. Easy Rider is a movie that was released in 1969, about 3 years before I was born. It stars Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper, Jack Nicholson, and even a small part for a very young Toni Basil. I just saw this film over this last weekend while hanging out with my Dad. We had just finished watching drag racing and he was flipping channels, and lo and behold, there is Easy Rider, just starting. I can’t honestly remember the last time that I watched the film, suffice it to say that I was back in my 20’s when I did. I didn’t remember the entirety of the story, but I did remember how it ended.

Spoiler alert: It doesn’t end well for our motorcycling hippy champions.

There was a couple of scenes that stood out to me though, something that was relevant back in the “free love 60’s,” and is still relevant today. The first scene that stood out to me was when Peter, Jack, and Dennis stopped off at some little diner somewhere in Louisiana I believe. They walk in and all the locals that are there, including the sheriff, look them up and down, give them the stink eye, and then proceed to talk shit about them.

Pan left, we have the local jailbait sitting in a booth giving giggles, smiles, and googily eyes at our hero’s. Well the trio wait and wait and wait, and wait some more, hoping to get service, which they don’t, all the while the natives, other than the jailbait, are growing more hostile.

The trio decide to leave to avoid any hostilities, and the jailbait follows them outside, wanting to go for a ride on the back of the motorcycles of our hero’s.

Enter the second scene:

Here is a transcript of the conversation between Jack and Dennis. Emphasis is mine.

George: You know, this used to be a helluva good country. I can’t understand what’s gone wrong with it.

Billy: Huh. Man, everybody got chicken, that’s what happened, man. Hey, we can’t even get into like, uh, second-rate hotel, I mean, a second-rate motel. You dig? They think we’re gonna cut their throat or something, man. They’re scared, man.

George: Oh, they’re not scared of you. They’re scared of what you represent to ’em.

Billy: Hey man. All we represent to them, man, is somebody needs a haircut.

George: Oh no. What you represent to them is freedom.

Billy: What the hell’s wrong with freedom, man? That’s what it’s all about.

George: Oh yeah, that’s right, that’s what it’s all about, all right. But talkin’ about it and bein’ it – that’s two different things. I mean, it’s real hard to be free when you are bought and sold in the marketplace. ‘Course, don’t ever tell anybody that they’re not free ’cause then they’re gonna get real busy killin’ and maimin’ to prove to you that they are. Oh yeah, they’re gonna talk to you, and talk to you, and talk to you about individual freedom, but they see a free individual, it’s gonna scare ’em.

Billy: Mmmm, well, that don’t make ’em runnin’ scared.

George: No, it makes ’em dangerous.

Shortly after this, the guys go to sleep, and in the night they are attacked by men wielding baseball bats, and George (Jack Nicholson) ends up dead.

Why is this relevant today?

Because a Man that is his own Man represents freedom. A Man not tied down to debt represents freedom. A Man that can choose where he goes, what he does, and who he does it with, represents freedom. Jack, Dennis, and Peter, in Easy Rider, represented all of those things, and then some. And ultimately, they died because of it.

There are plenty on the “left” and the “right” of politics that don’t want that freedom for you if you are a Man.

Feminists claim they don’t want or even need a Man. Except for you to keep paying your taxes for their welfare programs. “Man up and pay for my programs!”

Traditional Conservatives (TradCons) want you to “Man up and marry that whore!” Also, you need to pay your taxes and support your family, and society at large.

Both sides are of the same coin.

Both sides want to either get you “back on the plantation,” or “keep you on the plantation.”

Shame and guilt tactics abound.

“You are a sexist, racist, misogynist!” (Pay for my stuff!)

“You need to save the west and stop being a degenerate!” (Pay for me and my children’s stuff!)

“We need a man like a fish needs a bicycle!”

“What would your ancestors think about you!”

People on both sides of the coin want to talk about the state of affairs for men? Here’s your actual state of affairs:


Both sides have an agenda. Both sides have a plan for you. It’s for you to be a plow horse and get you back on the plantation.

“Do it for the good of society.”

“Do it because you owe a debt of gratitude to your nation.”

“Do it because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Man up and…..”

“A Real Man…”

“As a Real Man…”

Being a Man who isn’t beholden to any side of the coin is dangerous to them, because that Man represents real freedom. Not the bullshit pipe-dream that you’ve been sold your whole life, but actual freedom.

Freedom to walk away. Freedom to do what you want. Freedom to say no.

Freedom that they don’t actually have. They see it, and they know it.

And that, is what makes them dangerous to you.

Back in the late 60’s the shame talk was, “Cut your hair! Get a real job! Marry that girl and settle down! Raise a family!”

Today it is “Cut your hair! Get a real job! Marry that girl and settle down! Raise a family!”

Not much has changed in 50 years if you ask me.

Let me ask you this:

Do you want to be only seen and known as a plow-horse? Or do you want something else?

Don’t get me wrong, if wanting a family and raising children is something you want for yourself, by all means, do that. Just make sure that it’s what you want. Not what “society” is telling you to do.

Is there an easy answer to all of this? Unfortunately no. I don’t have the answer(s) but I do know that “doing the right thing,” getting yourself buried in debt, and having a bunch of shit that you don’t need ain’t it.

So this Independence Day, while you are drinking your drinks, lighting off your fireworks, and waving your flags around, I hope you take a moment and reflect on what real freedom is. Remember that there are those around you that have an agenda, and it’s not necessarily to your benefit. And I say, let them burn.

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