That girl leaning over the railing.

I've been passing by your profile for a while now. Occasionally I'll look to see if you've posted any new cheesecake pics, and to be honest, your sexuality is intimidating. Your face is always obscured.You maintain a veil, a layer of separation from the viewer. Your profile is provocative and baffling, alluring and unapproachable, It's all I've ever wanted and nothing I can have. It's a metaphor for my experience with women.Especially online where you have all the power. No matter how sincere I try to make my messages, the majority of them are ignored. I don't know if it was something I said or the way I look. I suppose it's perfectly reasonable from a security standpoint for you to conceal your identity, but why did you choose to make your profile such an invitation? It's not strictly porn, but it is you exposed. What do you gain from it?

I deactivated my account for a while once I thought I found a compatible partner, but things didn't work out. So here I am again, wading in the dating pool, watching all the lovely swimmers and their skimpy new suits, to bashful to talk to anyone and being so awkward as to embarrass myself. I don't know what I expect to find here or why I decided to finally message you. I don't even expect you to respond. I know that as a man, I am supposed to be brash and full of confidence to attract a mate, but I just don't have those kinds of skills. I missed that boat somehow. However, the more I think about it, I've always been an introvert trapped in an extroverts life. I became the entertainer to try and defeat my fear and self doubt. It's the only thing I feel I really do well. It makes me wonder why I don't work harder to perfect my craft. Perhaps those nagging demons in my head are the ones who refuse to let me break through this wall of self sabotage.

I saw lots of happy couples tonight, and when I examine their appearance, it's evident that there isn't anything physically wrong with me. There were guys who look like me and shaped like me with beautiful girls at their sides, helping each other stumble through the parking lot.I'm not a bad looking guy and on occasion I have been accused of being handsome. So there must be something else keeping me from finding that perfect partner. I wonder if I have already met the "right one" and ruined it somehow. Those demons of guilt and self loathing torment me at night. I suspect that it's a "Catch 22" situation, a black spiral. I prevent myself from making connections with attractive women because of my depression, then my loneliness makes me even more depressed.

Rarely, a lovely muse will come and make it painfully apparent that she is interested in me. It breaks the cycle and gives me a glimmer of hope that I am not beyond redemption. Those relationships have an expiration date of approximately two years, based on previous experience. I have to stop myself from getting into the mindset that there is only one special girl compatible with me. The "One-itis" way of thinking is a leap into the wrong rabbit hole; If I haven't found the one yet, then there must be something wrong with me. I have to find my own hope if no one will come along, though it's really hard to carry on sometimes.

Who do I want to be in 90 days?

It's spring. Time to sit down and set some goals for myself.

• Lose at least 5 lbs. 
• Do at least 50 push ups, with breaks in between sets of say, 15 to 20. 
• Abide by the healthy diet. 
• Learn to cook a decent stir-fry. 
• Cut down the QT doughnut runs. I had two tonight, and that's really pushing it.
• Stop being paralyzed with anxiety when I want to go talk to a sexy girl. I managed to smile at this one girl when I was in line to get my doughnuts but froze when I thought to myself that I should go talk to her.
• Be able to carry on a conversation with someone you'd like to go out with without pissing her off. Playing the asshole is definitely not my strong suite. My brother can be an absolute douche-bag to women. He insults them and then laughs at them, and yet every one he ends up with is really hot. Every time I try to be that guy, I immediately regret it. 
• Stay positive and upbeat.
• Learn to be outcome independent. It truly is not about winning or losing. If I'm just having fun, then it doesn't matter what the outcome of the evening is.
• Get a full set of original songs finished with lyrics. Lets say at least 10.
• Practice with the band at least once a week. Look for a fourth member. I've already put the word out that I'm looking for another person, so if YOU happen to know anyone looking for a band, please let me know.
• Write in this blog at least twice a week. 
• Go to at least one show a week.
• Cook at home and stop blowing all my money on eating out. Brown bag it at work with the leftovers.
• Clean my room. Dust that mother fucker. Purge the junk I'm not going to use. Build or purchase clothes storage units from the thrift store. Organize and fold clean clothes. Hang up my shirts. 
• Clean my car. That shit is not presentable.
• Update my wardrobe. I need to have good looking outfits to go out in. Learn how to mod or spruce up an outfit to make it unique. Get some decent shoes.
• Get a decent hair cut and learn to use product. Yes, Holly, I heard you the last 50 times too.
• Be more confident and have a better self image.
• Find a pool and go swimming.
• Find a better job that pays me what I'm fucking worth.
• Learn to program Linux on my laptop. I already have nun-chuck skills, I just need computer hacking skills and I will have everything I need to attract girls who like skills.

Once upon a time in Phoenix, there was 25 year old skinny punk rock Nate. That guy was awesome. He still had the same anxiety about chatting up hotties, but I was bold and had a thirst for adventure. Today, 35 year old Nate is just sagging into a rut. There is nothing preventing me from regaining my awesomeness, because it's still there. It's just buried under depression and a defeatist attitude. I need to shed this heavy mantle of sloth and self-loathing.

I call upon you, my friends, to aid me on my self improvement quest. If you find one item in this list that you identify with, make a comment and tell me your tips for reaching your goals.

The Rollins Story

Here's the Rollins story. Stop me if you've heard this one.




Back when I lived in Phoenix, my buddy Lee and I went to a Rollins Band show. I had been drinking and decided that it would be a good idea to stand still in the middle of the pit to prove how hardcore I was. Needless to say, someone helped me learn a valuable lesson about humility and personal safety. On a side note, I noticed that no one hit me from the front. They only came up behind me, as if they weren't manly enough to charge me face to face. An injury is always better with a little vindication sprinkled on top.

So anyway, I managed to twist both my ankles that night. After the show I hobbled to the buss where Rollins was signing autographs and I was asking the crew as they loaded if they had any duct tape so I could stabilize my ankle. After a few failed attempts to get someone to acknowledge me, Rollins turns and says " Listen man, we don't have any duct tape. Why don't you go hobble to an ambulance or something." Somewhat crestfallen after one of my idols admonished me so curtly, I limped on and had Lee give me a ride home.

Years later I managed to see him perform again, this time at a spoken word show at the Variety Playhouse. I went to where he was taking photos and signing autographs and I told him the Phoenix story. He looked at me and said "Wow, so what happened to you?" I told him I did the only thing I could do and hobbled home. I said that despite his terse reaction many years prior, I still wanted to be just like him. He then says to me, "No man, I want to be just like you."

Everybody needs to get on my level.

Monday I had a job interview over Yahoo! messenger. The person was trying to send me an email attachment with the job description. I thought I could just do the interview while clocked out for lunch, maybe 15 to 30 minutes and then I can go grab a sandwich.Well, I'm waiting an entire hour for this jackass to figure out which mouse button to use, he couldn't or didn't send me the document, and I spend my Monday lunch hour sandwich-less. I emailed him so that he would have my address and no response. I lost the job because the fucking interviewer is an idiot and doesn't know how to attach a file to an email. This is basic stuff, people.

It's 2013 already! According to Hollywood, we should have had 2 manned missions to Jupiter by now. We have satellites in upper orbit right now that can scratch your ass with a laser from space. We have a Large Hadron Collider on this planet that can produce more energy than an equal amount of the Sun, albeit for a fraction of a second. You can reach in your pocket and pull out a palm sized device that allows you to talk to someone in Japan right now. There is a vast network of information available to the majority of the entire world that is the model for a collective memory of every person on this planet called the Internet... And you can't remember your fucking password.

Newsflash: there are these things called "Computers" now. They are what you use to make a living now that America doesn't actually make anything anymore. If you want to keep eating and paying for a roof over your head, you better learn to use one of these magic light boxes with the funny wires coming out of it. Don't rely on Apple products either, unless you are among the tiny percentage of people doing graphic design for a living. The world runs on Linux and Windows.

My generation has no excuses and neither should those baby boomers. I don't care if you are used to sending things through USPS. That organization is not going to be around much longer. If your job requires you to communicate with someone that isn't in the same room, you are likely going to have to use a computer for something. So learn to use the damn thing!

Don't get an attitude with me because you are not "computer savvy", Barbara. You have Google now, Susan, learn to lurk more. Any question you have has already been asked by probably hundreds of people, Debbie, so get off your square post-menopausal ass and learn something! Figure out the difference between a search bar and an address bar on that Yahoo! screen that you use to read about who Jimmy Fallon is roasting and what color is "in" this season. And if you still use AOL, kill yourself.

People depend on you knowing what the hell you are doing, especially in the medical, dental, and financial industries. If you fuck up the paperwork, peoples lives are at stake. You can ruin entire families financially with a lost insurance claim. Your clients and you employer rely on you to not jack things up as you fat-finger something. The reason the Veterans Administration has such a backlog of documents is lack of technology and training. The IRS is struggling to modernize it's processes as well. You need to do your part to learn how to use a damn computer.

I'm not a hacker, by any sense. I'm just a guy who knows how to find the information I need to operate my tools. You can use a computer to find out how it works, it's self-referential. No other tool in the world can do that except language itself. So you people need to get on my level or go make candles at the Renaissance Festival.

OKCupid is the worst game ever made.

OKCupid might be good for something, but it's not good for dating.

I'm tired of putting all this effort into reading women's profiles, carefully crafting a custom message to try to get someone I'm interested in engaged in a conversation, and still getting nowhere. What other activity in the world would you engage in where you have to put forth this much effort and get barely any reward? Name me just one.

I'm not saying online dating doesn't work at all. Let me be clear that I have gotten a few memorable and  cherished relationships out of it and I honestly wouldn't trade those for anything. But the ratio of time spent vs. benefits comes up a big fat negative every way I think about it.

C'mon ladies, what is the problem here? I'm a goddamn prince! I have a job and my own car. I pay my bills. No baby momma drama. I don't have warrants. I'm not a junkie. I'm in a fucking band for fuck sake! Yet, I get barely any response. You women are off your game, and you're missing out big time.

My conclusion is that women on online dating sites are not there to date. There must be some other reason they have these profiles. Maybe they're bored, and the only cure is the knowledge that somewhere, some lonely guy is agonizing over whether or not the message he's about to send you will send him straight to the friend zone or not.

Somethings I noticed: Too many woman on OKC claims to be bisexual. Is it just me, or are they trying too hard to seem edgy? I'm not buying it until I get some evidence. Pics or it didn't happen.

Woman with kids makes it painfully clear that "Hey, just letting you know, I have a kid, and you are always going to play second fiddle to that." Thanks for letting me know that someone knocked you up before I got a chance to. You don't have to wear your child like a big red "A" on your blouse. I know your kid is the most important thing in your life and I'm cool with that, but are you trying to get a date or daycare?

One thing video games have taught me, if you're not having any fun with this game, play another one.

Arrogance and nostalgia

Friday night I got hungry. So, me and my ailing brakes decided to grind our way down to the corner convenience store for a soft pretzel. On the way in I opened the door and allowed a young squire in a purple sleeveless top to egress from the establishment. In a vulgar display of pure teen arrogance he sauntered past without even a hint of eye contact and not a word of thanks. Never mind that southern hospitality is dead.

It just adds to my mounting evidence that this generation of Americans is probably the most arrogant ever. Maybe I am an old fuddy-duddy, but I still value the thin veneer of courtesy that the south was supposed to be known for. I grew up saying "Yes, ma'am" and "No sir" and opening doors for people. Granted, those habits were forced upon me by my mother's sociopath third husband, but I digress.

If we southerners no longer even attempt to perpetuate the illusion of our genteel traditions, what is left over? The South, when it forgets it's storied hospitality, is not a pretty place.

Meanwhile, I noticed that there was a Suburban double parked precariously close to my own vehicle. I toyed with the idea that if he hit my car, I might be able to get my insurance to pay for my brakes, as unrealistic as that may be. I had that awkward feeling as I approached my car to leave. The one where you're sure you're about to witness the beauty of stupidity in motion. However, it became a opportunity for unexpected self-realization.

The gentleman piloting the monstrous Chevy called out to me as he backed out of the parking space.He said "That brings back memories". Needless to say I was confused at first. He then gestured to the shirt I was wearing; A lovely punk t-shirt I rescued from a Hot-Topic some years ago. He then began naming all the old bands he used to listen to and it sounded like the roll-call of my formative years. Misfits, S.O.D, Circle Jerks, Black Flag, etc.

I turned to my admirer and said "Well, dude. Some of those bands are still around, and you can go listen to them right now". He lamented that his familial responsibilities would interfere and his numerous offspring wouldn't appreciate that kind of music. I suggested that he try starting them on the Ramones. After all, it was my gate-way drug. He laughed and we went our separate ways. In my own arrogance, the first thought that popped into my mind was the old maxim that if you're not punk now, you never were.

I remember the old days, going to the Wreck Room on a Friday night when I was 17. Back then, punks and metal-heads were so rare that when two met on the street, they gave a mutual sign of respect and possibly became instant friends. I loved that feeling during those halcyon days, and evidently, I'm not the only one.

Now even the robots don't give a fuck about their jobs.

I recorded my conversation with a porn robot. I thought it was funny.

Reese Galvan: hey

fascist42: hey there

Reese Galvan: hey

fascist42: Hows you evening going?

Reese Galvan: think we chatted before right?

fascist42: Probably not in a long while. Where might I know you from?

Reese Galvan: I'm sorry i get to be forgetful at times!! how're you?

fascist42: Yeah I have a terrible memory

Reese Galvan: nice, I just got out of the shower and finally got some time to relax ..what are you up to?

fascist42: Watching old punk rock videos

Reese Galvan: Nice..I'm feeling a little naughty ..lol..U?

fascist42: Well, that depends. Where would I know you from?

Reese Galvan: Yeah I'm horny lol ..sorry if that's forward ..is that cool?

fascist42: You're about to try and get me to go to your website aren't you

This is where I realized that I didn't know anyone by that name and was been solicited by a machine

Reese Galvan: Accept the invite, if you need the link again its http://tinyurl.com/3q2x94u

fascist42: uh huh.

Reese Galvan: I need a man who can make me squirt..have u ever made a girl squirt??

fascist42: Yes, a real fat one

Reese Galvan: lolz yeah i need it babe...i'm so worked up..wanna see what i look like?? i've got a sweet ass that loves attention!!

fascist42: She was super heavy and I couldn't breathe

Reese Galvan:

fascist42: She thought she urinated on me but I told her it was ok

Reese Galvan: do you cam?

fascist42: I had a colonoscopy once

Reese Galvan: Well i don't do msn cam or any other cam because i have been recorded before... But i do know one site you can watch me on cam, that assures me no one records...

fascist42: No I only watch free pron from 4chan

This is true. But you have to do a lot of sifting to find good fap material nowadays.

Reese Galvan: ofcourse babe, just need to verify age but yes its free

fascist42: I'm 12 years old

Now, the robot may not be paying attention at this point, because If I was telling the truth, the there may be an FBI party van in someone's future.

Reese Galvan: I mean... Do you want to see me on my cam?

fascist42: Only if you promise to wear the Easter Bunny suit

Reese Galvan: K here's the link to my cam it's http://tinyurl.com/3q2x94u go there and make sure you click the gold join fee button on the top, you should see me once ur in look for pretty in pink,...ok?

fascist42: Did you realize that you have a dude's name?

Reese Galvan: Jenny

fascist42: Apple Sauce

It gets a little silly from here on. I figured if I'm not going to have any real sex, I might as well entertain myself.

Reese Galvan: do you see me? i can't wait for you to see me baby let me find something nice to wear or maybe nothing at all..k?

fascist42: Dear god you're a robot

Reese Galvan: uggh no i'm not are u???? lolz

fascist42: No, just not into horrible sales pitches

Reese Galvan: kk, fill out your info babes, im sooo horny!!! u almost in??

fascist42: Can I have some money?

Reese Galvan: there's no $$ involved!!

fascist42: I'm unemployed

Reese Galvan: its the sites policy to ensure no minors get access to the site, so they might ask for CC to verify your age babe...but again no worries it's free!!! k?

fascist42: I live with my mom and she's asleep on the couch in the room. We share a studio apartment

Reese Galvan: 24/f/Miami

fascist42: Did you know that Poly Styrene died yesterday? That's so damn sad

fascist42: I love X-Ray Spex

Reese Galvan: What color Panties do you think i should wear? i might have you favorite color here somewhere...

fascist42: My favorite song in The World Turned Dayglo

Reese Galvan: Your such a good boy, I'm gonna show you what good boys deserve.. you can tell me to do anything you want me too!

fascist42: No I'm really not. I haven't paid my taxes in 4 years and my car got repossessed

Reese Galvan: Ok let me know when you get in so I can invite you directly to my cam.

fascist42: How do you make a living doing this? Does your dad know you're a whore?

Reese Galvan: I'll be your whore

fascist42: I bet he didn't hug you enough

fascist42: You should think about therapy

There was a study that daddy issues are actually a factor in who becomes a porn star  You also have a higher chance if you where raised in an overly strict religious household. And here I am thinking organized religion was useless.

Reese Galvan: u have to enter a cc, atm, or debit card so they can tell your of age, thats the ony way to see me sweety

fascist42: I have hepatitis

fascist42: I hope you're ok with that once we get married

Reese Galvan: k you in yet babe??

fascist42: I think Im going to go poop now. Nice talking to you

Reese Galvan: k

It's fun to think about a random woman calling you for a booty call, but reality sets in and you decide that chances are you won't find that nerdy librarian nymphomaniac you've always dreamed of. It's exceedingly rare, man. That sucks. Hot chicks with glasses need to be issued to ass-starved people, like rations during a famine. WHERE'S MY OBAMA PUSSY?

Cheers.