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Showing posts from April, 2016

POSTSCRIPT FROM PARADISE

Change is nice sometimes. When I was thirty I picked up and went to school abroad, leaving everything behind. Girlfriend, car, nice apartment and most of my possessions. Don't worry, my girlfriend had already moved on by the time we had broken up. I mean into the arms of another. Good for her. You win some, you love someone else, as they say. 

Before I left town my friend DJ, whom I hadn't seen in a while, came over and took a look at my new digs, the digs I was about to leave behind. Rent-controlled apartment by the beach, tastefully furnished and with reasonably new carpet. And the soon-to-be ex and I had painted the place in a soothing shade of yellow which we had dubbed "instant good mood." He took a long look at Shannon and said, "She's fine." Meaning hot. I had a good job, though I wasn't crazy about it. But teaching paid the bills and left enough over for me to take the occasional vacay, take my baby out to dinner, and save some money besides.…

TEST QUESTION

Today's question is, Should the average male with no health conditions take supplemental testosterone? The answer is clearly no. 

Why is it, then, that everywhere I turn these days guys are telling me they are thinking about "getting on some 'test'"? 

First my dad emails me saying he's looking into some bioidentical testosterone. And my neighbor says he's having trouble losing the belly flab so he wants to get on some T. Another friend loves how taking testosterone lets him have sex with his woman all night, and ejaculate several times in as many hours. Something I haven't done with a girl since I was 17, and that's the night I lost my virginity. But this friend's woman is now pregnant with twins, so she'll be placing fewer demands on his manhood (presumably). My advice: ditch the script and save your mane. 

As a gym rat in college I had several friends who took steroids. A couple baseball players did it to bulk up in the preseason. Another g…

THE BIOGRAPHY OF MY BELLY

When I was sixteen I noticed the early signs of a six pack. I'm not talking about beer but this has some of that too. I attributed the creases and striations that had suddenly appeared below my pecs and alongside my navel to my new-found sit-up habit. On the floor at the foot of my bed, knees elevated to a 90 degree angle, elbows touching knees was one rep. Three sets of 35, three times a week was my work-out. 

But I'd later learn that sit-ups do little to lean-up the torso or for that matter strengthen the lower back. In fact abdominal exercises can actually cause back problems by tightening the hip flexors (groin muscles) which then put excessive strain on the back. Sit-ups hardly qualify as a good core work-out. Really any full-body exercise - pull-ups, push-ups, squats, shoulder presses - activates and strengthens the abdominals while also building beach muscles. In a recent poll published by GQ girls voted biceps as their favorite constrictor. I have always been partial to…

WHY DO YOU DO WHAT YOU DO?

Why do you do what you do? As anyone who has ever felt the pangs of hunger knows, it is often out of need. But necessity is just one of several reasons to explain your actions. We do things out of duty; we do things because we fear the consequences of not doing them; many people go to work to make money, so a job is often a means to an end; we do things from habit; or out of a sense of compulsion. Some of our daily activities are done for pure enjoyment. Lying under the shade of a sycamore tree, humming a soothing melody, gazing at the sunset over the Pacific blue, masturbation: these are ends in and of themselves. We do them because they give us pleasure.

Sadly, many busybodies are such simply as a way of distracting themselves from one or more of the following: their own thoughts, the existential pain of being human, the emptiness that rots in the center of their souls. So they text an acquaintance, or watch Parks & Recreation re-runs. I confess!

I think the most exalted endeavors…

PARTY OVER, OOPS

When I found out Prince died today, I shed a tear. Two, actually. One when I watched his guitar solo tribute to George Harrison at the end of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction, 2004, which I had never seen before. A second tear rolled down my cheek as I watched his performance of "Purple Rain" during the Super Bowl halftime show, 2007. That was the only year in Super Bowl history that it rained during the performance, and considering the song's title it couldn't have been more poetic.

Prince shaped my adolescent sexuality, he "brought my manhood alive and made it sing." When I was 12 my mother took my brothers and me to see the movie Purple Rain. She covered my eyes during the sex scene with Apollonia, in which he grabbed her crotch to "When Doves Cry" and they swayed together for the camera as he bit her neck. Mom thought she had me covered, but I could see through the cracks of her fingers. I came home, locked myself in the bathroom with m…

THE BEST JOB ON EARTH

I recently found myself browsing profiles on a dating site. More than once I encountered the phrase "I have the greatest job on earth." These girls worked for the environment or lobbied for animal rights or equality in the workplace or else did fundraising for their favorite charities and other sorts of girlie things. So, being a guy, I asked myself what I thought was the best job around. What could I do that would make me so proud as to brag about it on social media without sounding like a total goober?

When I was a kid I thought it would be great to be a rock star. I grew up idolizing hair bands like Warrant and Skid Row. These guys got all the chicks, and even had a lot of male fans who went to their shows to score chicks. Like me. Sebastian Bach and Bret Michaels and Tommy Lee et al didn't just have talent. They had great hair. They had great style. Even the piercings I could go in for, having subjected myself to the pain of ear and nose and navel and nipple piercings…

A SIP FROM THE CUP OF ETERNAL YOU

What is your purpose in life? Why are you here? If you don't stop and ask yourself that at least once in a while, then you're probably not living it. Is your purpose to procreate? No, that is your pecker's purpose. And to pee. 

Think of yourself as a flower. A delicate rose. What is the rose's reason for being? It depends on whom you ask. The bumble bee and the hummingbird will say the flower exists to provide food. The bee then turns pollen into honey for us, so we turn around and say the bee's purpose is to sweeten our tea. If I were the bee I'd take offense, and the queen bee would beg to differ, saying all bees are made to serve her. The nature-loving bystander would say the flower is to provide beauty, to be a source of admiration and wonder. This is poetic and feel-good, the apple would say, but the flower only exists to be replaced by the fruit, which has the biggest job of all: providing humans and animals alike with nourishment and carrying the seed for…