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My little buddy. He makes the nights not so lonely… But he also woofs a lot.

Anonymous asked: RE: Slicing men's dicks off - I know this is rubbing salt in very raw wounds but you are the one that has said over and over that it shouldn't matter if a woman ends things for another man VS another woman. Cheating is cheating. Leaving is leaving. Or is this like the marriage thing and you have now reconsidered?

No, you’re absolutely right, and I still feel that way. Haven’t you ever just gotten irrationally angry for a little while?? That’s where I find myself at various points in the day.

It doesn’t make me feel worse that she may end up with a guy — rationally — but in the heat of the moment shit doesn’t always make sense. And to answer another question i got last night, I was merely pointing it out because so many people ask “But what if so and so leaves me for a guy?”… I was trying to explain, yes, it hurts. But it actually IS the same excruciating hurt as it is to imagine her with ANYONE else.

The point is, you’re going to feel some wild ass emotions during a breakup, and they are ALL OKAY. They don’t have to make sense or even sound all that good on paper. It’s normal, and even healthy, to shout out that you wanna cut off some damn dicks, or beat a bitch’s face in. As long as those words REMAIN words. Fuck that, everyone gets angry— if you don’t, then we have to worry.

mfangeleeta asked: Great post! Man, I've been in your shoes. 14 years together and she's now married to a man. When it happened it was hell, but now I realize how much better my life is. And hey, she and I still talk from time to time. It'll get better.

I know this was meant to comfort me, but now I just want to slice the dick off of every guy I see and feed it to a diabetic tiger. Fuuuuck.

But I get what you’re saying. ;)

calzonafan2013 asked: Read your post and it completely rocks. I believe in you. Anyone who's willing to risk greatly will receive greatly. I have an ex who gave his all. I couldn't love him and never led him on, but he'd been crushed before and I felt horrible. The best feeling in my life was meeting his soon to be wife and watching her straighten his tie in a possessive fashion when we ran into each other. He dared to risk again, and he married a woman who truly loved him. So will you.

THIS HAS TO HAPPEN TO ME. RIGHT NOW. OMG. 

awesome. i hope someone will be straightening my tie someday, and someone like you will be standing by, fully relieved I’ve not gone crazy. 

tumblecat1 asked: Ok now that your single, are you on the prowl or licking your wounds? And most importantly are you totally turned off to long term relationships or willing to step out and try again.

honestly, i’m no good to anyone right now. i’m still at that “sobbing in public” phase. Complete turn off to most women (and if it isnt, what is WRONG with them?!?!)

I am not forsaking long term relationships but as I said… it’ll be a while. Always good to check in with yourself before jumping headlong into some fucked up u-haul moment. STOP ME IF I DO THIS OKAY??? ;)

Anonymous asked: Oh man, is your dog sick?

Wow, so many people wrote in about this. No, he (the white dog, not the dog of color) is my partner’s dog and so I will not be seeing him anymore. It’s DEVASTATING but NO HE IS NOT SICK, don’t worry, world. He will be around to terrorize mailmen and Comcast guys for a long, long time. 

Anonymous asked: Do you cringe hardcore when you're reading a fanfic and the author has written something like, "and then Blah moved down to taste her sweet nectar"? Because that shit makes me want to punch walls, or at least stop reading everything ever.

Absolutely. That’s disgusting. I don’t want any fucking nectar anywhere near my mouth so get on with that shit. Why can’t we just call it cum-guzzling and be done with it??

Just kidding, that’s also really gross. :D

Dearly Beloved or Dearly Departed, It’s All the Same to Me

“The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.”

Over the years, I’ve given advice to hundreds, maybe even thousands, of people. On love, relationships, friendships. Careers. On lives. And I always knew that one day, a test of my beliefs, those which I espoused so confidently and with such binding certainty, would come. The crucible.

It was easy to give advice about love and life, about giving freely of oneself and daring to do what others would not, when life was rosy and wonderful. When I had the love that so many others wish for and dream about, right there at my side. In my heart. In my bed. Would it be so easy when the tables turned? When everything I’d worked so hard for had forsaken me?

We learn who we are through times of hardship. Over the last few weeks, I’ve searched long and hard, trying to find out if I really was who I said I was. If I really believed what I said I believed.

Today the sun came out and I realized that I am, much to my relief, exactly who I said I was. And that I love that person.

There’s no real way to tell this story properly, because it would be disrespectful and wrong to air the details of my relationship with my partner of five amazing years. But there’s value in this, value for me but also for others, and so it is with that in mind that I’ll attempt to do some justice to it. And also because, really? I can’t keep it inside. It’s never been me to keep these things locked away. I have to write about them, and I have to share them. I hope that, if she ever reads this, my partner (I still am not quite ready to call her my “ex”) will understand. Hell, maybe she’ll get something out of it too.

To love someone, to let yourself be loved by someone, is a roller coaster of emotions, a kaleidoscope that— turned ever so slightly the wrong way— doesn’t always look all that pretty. It can be disorienting and confusing, and fucking beautiful in all its terribleness. Exhausting in its ecstasy. There’s no one way to do it right, and there are a lot of ways to do it wrong. I chose a path that, truthfully, I cannot question. I followed my heart, and even though it led me to this very painful place, there’s an authenticity there that I cannot deny.

In my years of doling out advice, I always lead with the same thing: know yourself. Love yourself. Only then can you really love someone else. And I have to say, though I have made my fair share of mistakes, I do love the person that I am today. 

Let’s start with the bad. While most of you remain anonymous to me, I’m sure many of you could pick me out of a lineup given the chance. So this isn’t easy to say without the blanket of anonymity to comfort me. I’ve made a lot of very bad financial decisions in my thirty one years. Probably more than most people make in a lifetime. I’m recovering from those decisions, but I will probably feel their repercussions for most of my life. There’s no way around it. I wanted things I did not earn, I wanted to be someone I wasn’t. It was only after I learned to love myself that I was able to break free from it. And even then, old habits… they die really, really hard.

I also party and drink pretty hard. What can I say, I’m a victim of the creative, perpetually-in-motion mind— I like to let that shit out in a big way. In my mind, it was something I did “now and then.” But frequency, I should remind you, is subjective. And what is no big deal to you might be a nightmare for the person who loves you. It’s my fault for not recognizing that sooner. No one else’s. I never advocate for “changing” who you fundamentally are, but drinking really doesn’t need to be apart of anyone’s FUNDAMENTAL existence. It just doesn’t. I look back at all the “good times” I had, and wish that I could erase them for just another few days with the woman I love with my whole heart. You can’t go back, though. You can’t undo what it already done. Only learn from it.

Luckily, I feel the good in me far outweighs the bad. I’ve learned from those mistakes and feel I am at a place now where I am the healthiest I’ve ever been. Mentally, physically, financially. I know all the right things to do (that was never a problem) and I’m doing them (that sometimes was). I love to cook. I love to garden. I love to build things with my hands. I love to write and repair and sing awful karaoke.

I’m a good person. I’m productive in a way that can never be measured by how much I work, or how much salary I bring home. I have, for years, filled every hour of every day with something productive. I wake up early and get a good night’s sleep. I try to be a responsible person when I’m awake— and I do it just fine 95% of the time.

You’ve seen the things I’ve done. Wanted to build a clock, so I did. Repaired and rebuilt my motorcycle. Tore it down and got it going again. I feel pretty good about who I am. Not perfect, no, but I followed my own advice. I sought out the person most important in my life: me. I found her, and I love her.

When I met the woman who would become my partner, I fell in love with her instantly. And I have never regretted a single moment since. I’ve always advised people to be daring, be bold, and forget about embarrassment or blows to the ego. Those things are TEMPORARY. The love I’ve shared for the last five years? That’s permanent. That was worth any moments of self-doubt or insecurity.

Maybe she is not a permanent part of it— a difficult distinction to make, to be sure— but these last five years have been the best five years of my life. The best. And I know a thing or two about awesome shit, okay?

I also always tell people to give love a chance, to give their all, not to play games or toy with people’s emotions. It’s hard to stand by that now, but you know what? I do. Give everything you have. Don’t hold it in reserve for some other time or place. Because that time or place may never come. Some good friends of mine have advised me that, next time, maybe I shouldn’t cook or clean or pick up the groceries the way I do. Maybe I should hold back. Maybe I should make them “work” for it.

Fuck that.

Yes, you should only give yourself to someone who deserves it, who has earned it. But the reality is, even if you’ve decided they’re worthy… they might not return the favor. They may love you, and they may want to share a life with you, but life is not tit-for-tat. If you spend your life keeping score, you’re going to be left with nothing. Trust me on this.

I don’t regret giving everything I have to this person. I feel the loss now, the deep and hollow abyss, but I know that I gave it every goddamn thing I had. I tried. I tried to make it work. Each and every one of you should know that feeling. That even in defeat, you can smile because you know that you were not afraid. Don’t be afraid. Do a lot of fucked up things, but for god’s sake, do not be afraid.

It’s also hard— fucking EXCRUCIATING— to think that she may be leaving me because she wants to be with a man. But I wouldn’t do anything differently. How could I? Where would I be without her love of five years? I would not be who I am right now, and that is an even scarier prospect. She’s helped me grow in so many ways that I can’t even count or express. It hurts like hell, and I get so angry sometimes I just want to rip down the walls. But I am who I am. I can’t change. And neither can she.

What does make me sad is that I didn’t— scratch that, we didn’t— get the chance to try to make it work. In theory, we tried, but no. It wasn’t a full effort on her part. It feels painfully unfair to watch other couples stick together through thick and thin (when in some cases the thin far outweighs the thick) and not get that chance. But we are not other couples. I hate it, but I don’t get to try again. Not now at least. 

So in this way, I have changed some from what I’ve previously espoused in this blog. I think I do want to get married. I think, when I meet the right woman, she will feel about it the same way I do (that I always have felt, I’ve just denied its importance): that standing in front of people you know and telling them you love this person NO MATTER WHAT is important. It’s meaningful. Because, to be perfectly honest, I don’t think my partner viewed our relationship in this way, and I definitely did. I still do. I would’ve done more, I would’ve tried harder once I knew things were headed in the wrong direction. 

So why the change? I think I dismissed the notion of marriage because I assumed it was for other people. Straight up (pun intended), until recently, it wasn’t even a POSSIBILITY for me. So I just didn’t really think it mattered. I realize now, I think it does.

Because when you stand before your family and friends (and god, if you believe in him), you’re not just making a commitment to that other person. You’re making a commitment to ALL OF THEM. That you’re going to do every last goddamn thing you can to make this relationship work. And we never had that. I felt that way… and I realize now I was alone in that.

Yup, I’m officially a convert. I don’t know if it will ever happen for me, and if it doesn’t, I certainly won’t DIE. I know I will find love again, and who knows what shape or form it will take. That’s the part that’s so fun, right? You never know what will happen from day to day, and that’s something I’ve ALWAYS preached. Just take it as it comes, and be glad of it. (Good to know some things don’t change.)

I’ll still yell at each and every one of you for not taking enough risks. I’ve been hurt, yeah, but it’s the only way to know who you truly are. It’s the only way to measure yourself, to know that—without a doubt— when the shit hits the fan, you are who you say you are. 

I am, and I’m good with it. I’m 31, single, somewhat germophobic. I snore after a night of drinking and I can eat half a sleeve of Oreos in one sitting. I like my motorcycles loud, old, and smelly. I like my women in skirts and my beer in cans. I don’t cry often, but when I do, it’s serious. I talk things out, I never go to bed angry. I’m still learning to spend money the right way, but I think I’m going in the right direction. I am loyal, kind, and very loud and boisterous. I have two parents that have both tried to commit suicide. I have a sister who is a (sometimes) recovering alcoholic. I swear, I don’t care much about fashion but I do like to look nice. I have more passion in my pinky finger than most people have in their entire bodies.

Fucking deal with it. I have.

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Awesome

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Last week with my little man. Makin’ it count!