What do you think of that post title? Make any sense to you?
Me neither... but apparently it made plenty of sense to the guy in Fort Lauderdale who stopped by my blog on September 20th after typing that phrase in the Yahoo search engine.
I hope he found what he was looking for!
Friday, September 25, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Do People Still do That?
This morning on the subway, a mid-forties aged man in the seat ahead of me decided to pull out a copy of Penthouse magazine and started flipping pages... As if that wasn't creepy enough on its own, next, he pulled out a piece of paper started to write an erotic story!
I positioned myself so I could read what he was writing and it started out like this:
"It had been a long time since we'd seen each other, so I really wanted to make the most of the evening... You were wearing some sexy new lingerie and I couldn't help but notice-"
At that point we arrived at my stop so I wasn't able to read any further, but I have a pretty good idea about the artistic direction his story was headed... But the question that I keep finding myself asking is, what the fuck is this guy doing still buying dirty magazines and handwriting erotic stories?
I don't think I've even bought a porn magazine since the internet was invented, and I can't even imagine leaving physical paper evidence that I was writing porn!
On the one hand, if you can't stop yourself from checking out porn during your morning commute then you must be a pretty hardcore addict... but then again, the magazine, the stationary? That's pretty amateur. Even the occasional porn consumer knows that you need to either create plausible deniability ("Oh, Moe Greene must have been using my computer earlier in the week, and you know what a perv he is...") or total "Black Ops" secrecy, (Like hiding your erotic writing under unassuming file names in folders that nobody would ever open)... But if you get caught with a magazine or worse yet, an erotic story written in your handwriting, there is no explaining yourself out of that situation.
These are the basic, fundamental rules to being a man in this century... Yet somehow, this guy never adapted! Part of me felt like staging an intervention for him, but another part of me felt like I was seeing porn-Darwinism at work. Because of the internet, streaming videos, and free websites cluttering the internet, this is the golden age of porn we're living in... And if this guy can't figure it out, then maybe he doesn't deserve it?
*I found it particularly creepy/interesting that he was using work stationary to write his "story". Apparently he works at Howard University Hospital. I'm not sure how I feel about that.
I positioned myself so I could read what he was writing and it started out like this:
"It had been a long time since we'd seen each other, so I really wanted to make the most of the evening... You were wearing some sexy new lingerie and I couldn't help but notice-"
At that point we arrived at my stop so I wasn't able to read any further, but I have a pretty good idea about the artistic direction his story was headed... But the question that I keep finding myself asking is, what the fuck is this guy doing still buying dirty magazines and handwriting erotic stories?
I don't think I've even bought a porn magazine since the internet was invented, and I can't even imagine leaving physical paper evidence that I was writing porn!
On the one hand, if you can't stop yourself from checking out porn during your morning commute then you must be a pretty hardcore addict... but then again, the magazine, the stationary? That's pretty amateur. Even the occasional porn consumer knows that you need to either create plausible deniability ("Oh, Moe Greene must have been using my computer earlier in the week, and you know what a perv he is...") or total "Black Ops" secrecy, (Like hiding your erotic writing under unassuming file names in folders that nobody would ever open)... But if you get caught with a magazine or worse yet, an erotic story written in your handwriting, there is no explaining yourself out of that situation.
These are the basic, fundamental rules to being a man in this century... Yet somehow, this guy never adapted! Part of me felt like staging an intervention for him, but another part of me felt like I was seeing porn-Darwinism at work. Because of the internet, streaming videos, and free websites cluttering the internet, this is the golden age of porn we're living in... And if this guy can't figure it out, then maybe he doesn't deserve it?
*I found it particularly creepy/interesting that he was using work stationary to write his "story". Apparently he works at Howard University Hospital. I'm not sure how I feel about that.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Check Me Out!
I just wanted to give a little plug to longtime FITS reader/commentor cad, who has finally put together a website to showcase her photography and graphic arts skills... And you can find it:
->HERE<-
But, cad's site is not only about displaying her work and marketing her skills, "cadography", also includes what promises to be a really intriguing photography themed blog!
Even if you're only a photography novice, you'll be able to find all kinds of tips and tricks on how to improve your ability to take a good picture, as well as get to see a lot of beautiful images from all genres of photography... and who doesn't like looking at great pictures?
But beyond all the tips and the beautiful images, do you know what else you'll be able to find at cad's blog?
ME, bitches!
That's right Shower Farters, I figured that since I deprived you of the pleasure of my company for all these months, I'd make up for it by over-saturating the market with my inconsistent, rambling, and semi-coherent writings!
In addition to my duties here, I'm going to be posting my thoughts on photography related topics over at cad's blog on the 15th and 30th of every month... (not sure what happens on February 30th yet, but I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it).
Anyway, I'm really excited about the opportunity that cad is offering me and I'm really look forward to being able to share a different side of myself to all of you. I promise this it won't be as bad as Paris Hilton trying to sing, Mariah Carey trying to act, Charles Manson on the guitar, or George W. Bush trying to run a country... I'm going to keep it as "me" as possible (yes, I feel like a douchebag just typing that sentence)... but what I'm trying to say is, its still going to be me writing the way I always do, just less cleavage talk, less toilet humor, and more pictures... and hopefully better spelling.
In closing, I really encourage everyone to not only check out cad's galleries, but the blog as well.
...And if you decide not to check it out, not only will I be personally offended, but I might be forced to hunt you down and assault you on your own front lawn... I don't really like to travel, and I'm sure you probably don't much like being assaulted, so let's make this easy on the both of us by just going and checking out the website and the blog.
->HERE<-
But, cad's site is not only about displaying her work and marketing her skills, "cadography", also includes what promises to be a really intriguing photography themed blog!
Even if you're only a photography novice, you'll be able to find all kinds of tips and tricks on how to improve your ability to take a good picture, as well as get to see a lot of beautiful images from all genres of photography... and who doesn't like looking at great pictures?
But beyond all the tips and the beautiful images, do you know what else you'll be able to find at cad's blog?
ME, bitches!
That's right Shower Farters, I figured that since I deprived you of the pleasure of my company for all these months, I'd make up for it by over-saturating the market with my inconsistent, rambling, and semi-coherent writings!
In addition to my duties here, I'm going to be posting my thoughts on photography related topics over at cad's blog on the 15th and 30th of every month... (not sure what happens on February 30th yet, but I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it).
Anyway, I'm really excited about the opportunity that cad is offering me and I'm really look forward to being able to share a different side of myself to all of you. I promise this it won't be as bad as Paris Hilton trying to sing, Mariah Carey trying to act, Charles Manson on the guitar, or George W. Bush trying to run a country... I'm going to keep it as "me" as possible (yes, I feel like a douchebag just typing that sentence)... but what I'm trying to say is, its still going to be me writing the way I always do, just less cleavage talk, less toilet humor, and more pictures... and hopefully better spelling.
In closing, I really encourage everyone to not only check out cad's galleries, but the blog as well.
...And if you decide not to check it out, not only will I be personally offended, but I might be forced to hunt you down and assault you on your own front lawn... I don't really like to travel, and I'm sure you probably don't much like being assaulted, so let's make this easy on the both of us by just going and checking out the website and the blog.
Friday, September 18, 2009
The Panhandlers
The average panhandler never rises above the level of being a common nuisance. They loiter outside of convenience stores, hangout in front of sporting events, and walk up and down busy intersections during a red light. Usually, they just shake a cup and hope you’ll drop in some change. Sometimes they’ll verbalize their request, “Can you spare some change?”
But they don’t really expect or require you to respond. It’s basically a rhetorical question. You can stare straight ahead and ignore them and it doesn’t really bother them. They make you uncomfortable 2 or 3 seconds, but that’s about it. You move on with your day and forget them completely.
But then there is the confrontational panhandler… the one who picks you out of a crowd and confronts you directly. Perhaps you made the mistake of making eye-contact or fit some general description of the kind of person they deem likely to fork over some money. This panhandler will walk up to you, make eye contact, and usually give you a hard luck story. There is no, “look straight forward and ignore,” option; if you want them to go away you’re going to have to look them in the eye and say, “no”.
It’s a strategy that probably works more often than they passive aggressive change cup method. People have a hard time telling someone “no” when they’re standing in front of them. I however, have no qualms or moral dilemma saying, “no”. In fact, I almost enjoy it.
There is nothing more satisfying than pulling off your earbuds with a pained grimace on your face, (as if you were a surgeon being interrupted in the middle of an appendectomy) and then interrupting their bullshit story midsentence with a curt, “No” as you turn and walk away.
But last week I was actually thrown off my game by a confrontational panhandler… In my defense, it was five o’clock in the morning and I was trying to catch the train on my way to work. The girl who confronted me was in her mid-twenties. She wasn’t dressed in stereotypical panhandler attire. She was clean. She had a genuinely apologetic look on her face. And although her story wasn’t anything special, it felt genuine. She said her car had been towed and she was just trying to get back home to Frederick… That caught my attention because Frederick is where I grew up.
I asked her what part of Frederick, and she told me “Jefferson Street, next to McCurdy Field…” That wasn’t far from my old neighborhood in either geographical location or social status. The same rowhouse and duplex lined streets… The same rundown liquor stores… The same working class people who flash toothless smiles and are quick to offer you a story or a beer.
At that moment I felt like I knew her. Had I stood there and talked to her for a couple of minutes I’m sure I would have known some of the same people or traveled through the same schools as she had… But I didn’t stand there and talk to her.
What I did was explain to her, as sincerely as possible, that although I wanted to help her, I didn’t have any cash and I was running late for work.
I apologized profusely but the truth was, I was actually a little early and I had forty dollars in my pocket.
“That’s okay,” she responded. “I understand completely... I’ll be okay.”
She didn’t say it in a sarcastic or disappointed tone. Her tone was actually one of a reassuring nature. She really didn’t want me to walk away feeling guilty for not giving her any money… but of course, since I knew that I was lying to her that’s the exact feeling I walked away with... Guilt.
And it stayed with me for quite some time… I can’t completely explain why I didn’t help her. I knew she was telling the truth. I felt genuine sympathy for her story. And it wouldn’t have hurt me to give her ten or twenty dollars… I just didn’t do it.
------
Yesterday, Moe Greene was eating his lunch in a Burger King parking lot. A girl approached his car. She wasn’t dressed like a panhandler. She was in her mid-twenties. And she had a genuine story about how she had come from Virginia in search of work and an escape from an abusive boyfriend… but things hadn’t worked out and now she had no place to stay.
When he asked her, “What do you want from me?” she started crying.
He told her to get in the car, drove her to a motel, paid cash for a room, and then let her keep change so she could get something to eat.
It coast him sixty dollars and he ended up coming back late from his lunch break.
These girls were both in our age group… both had genuine stories… and both were asking for help. Moe had no real personal connection with his girl and her problem was both complex and more expensive… My girl grew up maybe 15 blocks from where I grew up, and could have had her problem solved with a twenty dollar bill...We both had the money to help. But only I really had the time.
And yet Moe stopped his day to help, and I just walked away.
But they don’t really expect or require you to respond. It’s basically a rhetorical question. You can stare straight ahead and ignore them and it doesn’t really bother them. They make you uncomfortable 2 or 3 seconds, but that’s about it. You move on with your day and forget them completely.
But then there is the confrontational panhandler… the one who picks you out of a crowd and confronts you directly. Perhaps you made the mistake of making eye-contact or fit some general description of the kind of person they deem likely to fork over some money. This panhandler will walk up to you, make eye contact, and usually give you a hard luck story. There is no, “look straight forward and ignore,” option; if you want them to go away you’re going to have to look them in the eye and say, “no”.
It’s a strategy that probably works more often than they passive aggressive change cup method. People have a hard time telling someone “no” when they’re standing in front of them. I however, have no qualms or moral dilemma saying, “no”. In fact, I almost enjoy it.
There is nothing more satisfying than pulling off your earbuds with a pained grimace on your face, (as if you were a surgeon being interrupted in the middle of an appendectomy) and then interrupting their bullshit story midsentence with a curt, “No” as you turn and walk away.
But last week I was actually thrown off my game by a confrontational panhandler… In my defense, it was five o’clock in the morning and I was trying to catch the train on my way to work. The girl who confronted me was in her mid-twenties. She wasn’t dressed in stereotypical panhandler attire. She was clean. She had a genuinely apologetic look on her face. And although her story wasn’t anything special, it felt genuine. She said her car had been towed and she was just trying to get back home to Frederick… That caught my attention because Frederick is where I grew up.
I asked her what part of Frederick, and she told me “Jefferson Street, next to McCurdy Field…” That wasn’t far from my old neighborhood in either geographical location or social status. The same rowhouse and duplex lined streets… The same rundown liquor stores… The same working class people who flash toothless smiles and are quick to offer you a story or a beer.
At that moment I felt like I knew her. Had I stood there and talked to her for a couple of minutes I’m sure I would have known some of the same people or traveled through the same schools as she had… But I didn’t stand there and talk to her.
What I did was explain to her, as sincerely as possible, that although I wanted to help her, I didn’t have any cash and I was running late for work.
I apologized profusely but the truth was, I was actually a little early and I had forty dollars in my pocket.
“That’s okay,” she responded. “I understand completely... I’ll be okay.”
She didn’t say it in a sarcastic or disappointed tone. Her tone was actually one of a reassuring nature. She really didn’t want me to walk away feeling guilty for not giving her any money… but of course, since I knew that I was lying to her that’s the exact feeling I walked away with... Guilt.
And it stayed with me for quite some time… I can’t completely explain why I didn’t help her. I knew she was telling the truth. I felt genuine sympathy for her story. And it wouldn’t have hurt me to give her ten or twenty dollars… I just didn’t do it.
------
Yesterday, Moe Greene was eating his lunch in a Burger King parking lot. A girl approached his car. She wasn’t dressed like a panhandler. She was in her mid-twenties. And she had a genuine story about how she had come from Virginia in search of work and an escape from an abusive boyfriend… but things hadn’t worked out and now she had no place to stay.
When he asked her, “What do you want from me?” she started crying.
He told her to get in the car, drove her to a motel, paid cash for a room, and then let her keep change so she could get something to eat.
It coast him sixty dollars and he ended up coming back late from his lunch break.
These girls were both in our age group… both had genuine stories… and both were asking for help. Moe had no real personal connection with his girl and her problem was both complex and more expensive… My girl grew up maybe 15 blocks from where I grew up, and could have had her problem solved with a twenty dollar bill...We both had the money to help. But only I really had the time.
And yet Moe stopped his day to help, and I just walked away.
Monday, September 14, 2009
We've All Got Needs
Okay Shower Farters, this is how its going to work... We're about to have a quick, no strings attached, hot and steamy blogging session. When it's done, I'll go my way and you'll go yours. If the outcome of our little soiree is mutually satisfying, then maybe I'll stop by sometime in the near future and blog the bejesus out of you again... Perhaps I'll even leave a tooth brush in your bathroom and keep a change of clothes in the closet. You know, "just in case..."
But if I do that, please don't take it to mean that we're officially, "back together," or anything like that... It just means we both have needs and agree that it would be more convinient to fulfill those needs with each rather than trying to find someone new.
So don't go calling your family to let them know we're, "trying to work things out," because again, that's not what this is. I won't be heading home with you for the holidays. I won't be escorting you to your company Christmas party. There will be no double dates with your friends, no roses by the stairs, no romantic notes on the nightstand, and certainly snuggling in the movies.
Well... maybe we can snuggle at the movies... it does get kind of chilly in those theaters sometimes.
But if I do that, please don't take it to mean that we're officially, "back together," or anything like that... It just means we both have needs and agree that it would be more convinient to fulfill those needs with each rather than trying to find someone new.
So don't go calling your family to let them know we're, "trying to work things out," because again, that's not what this is. I won't be heading home with you for the holidays. I won't be escorting you to your company Christmas party. There will be no double dates with your friends, no roses by the stairs, no romantic notes on the nightstand, and certainly snuggling in the movies.
Well... maybe we can snuggle at the movies... it does get kind of chilly in those theaters sometimes.
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