My Roommates Walked In On Me And The Majesty Of My Dissapearing Balls...

The following is a true story...

I got caught.  That is genuinely the only way to put it.  I realize this has probably happened to guys before, but never to me.  The simple version of it is this.  I woke up, at around one thirty in the PM, (I stayed up late the night before stop judging me!) took a shower and spent a little time reading a recently purchased book on the life of Marvin Gaye.  (We have a lot in common in terms of our exceptional ability to fuck up.  And the obvious fact that I am an amazingly talented black soul singer.)  Never the less after some light reading I came out of my room and realized that no one was home.  This is rare for me.  I live in a giant house with three roommates and a consistent train of dudes that come over to either lament about how they are in their thirties and single or lament that they are in their thirties and their wives turned out to be total bitches.  (Occasionally someone in their twenties comes over...they usually feel uncomfortable.) I looked around and observed the glorious emptiness.  This felt like a moment granted to me by God himself.  Don't get me wrong, I actually love where I live, but after recent events in my life maybe some alone time would be just what I needed to get some much valued perspective on life.  (See above post.  Or not, if you respect me.)

I immediately went to our giant air conditioned basement that houses our 72 inch 3D T.V.  I looked around and listened intently... not a peep.  I was free!  I could spread my wings, sing to the heavens or do whatever else your supposed to metaphorically do when you are feeling completely free and vaguely unhinged.  I could become a scene in my own John Hughes movie, or have some sort of Jerry Mcguire-esque moment realizing the futility of my existence and that single life freedom is exactly what I need.  Finally  I could do whatever I wanted to.  Live however I wanted to. Watch whatever I wanted to.  I had a joyous 72 inches of pure viewing splendor awaiting my open eyes.  I could watch anything in the world that I wanted to.  We have 500 channels and a shitload of DVDs obviously I could find something to view that day   I contemplated what I wanted to watch.  For those that don't know me I'm a little bit of a film buff (read pretentious asshole.)  I imagined The Godfather would be on somewhere, maybe The Bicycle Thieves or Citizen Kane could be on TCM.  Maybe I still have Chinatown on the DVR.  I have every viewing option in the world.  I can finally, genuinely, purely slightly anti Americanly watch whatever I want!  "I can take all this I just got dumped and I need to stop being such a bitch anger", and flip it into "I am single man who is cherishing his free time by basking in the beautiful art of film."  Perhaps I didn't quite follow through on this promise to myself like I should have.  I looked around once more reminding myself that there was no one home and after much deliberation I sadly, made my choice.  I was alone and I just had to.  I turned the lights off in our beautifully "man cave furnished" basement sat down and relaxed.

About 22 minutes into the film I was slightly spent and decided to pause it  and go and have a smoke.   While in the backyard smoking, I heard the front door open.  In walked one roommate and two of my very good friends.  I looked at the front door with fear and what was soon to be sheer embarrassment.  I immediately rushed into the house asking where they had been and whether or not they had fun on there journey.  Slowly buying time I realized I had to somehow get to the basement and turn that movie off pause or they would know immediately exactly what I was doing.  They started to walk downstairs.  I told them "Hey, maybe I should go down there first.  I forgot what I was watching and I should probably make an effort to make sure it's not a boring film or television show that you guys would hate."  Not buying my lie and  sensing my nervous attitude and insistence to get back down to the basement before them they hurriedly ran downstairs.  I chased after them and dove for the remote, but to no avail.  The play button was pushed and it was very quickly realized that prior to their return I was by myself and I was watching... The Notebook.

The amount of shit I was given that night was on an epic scale.  If I was down in the basement watching hardcore pornography and frantically jerking off when everyone showed up I would've gotten away with it only slightly scathed.  Guys jerk off it's human nature.  Sometimes guys get caught jerking off, it's unfortunate but it happens.  (I may or may not have been jerking off before I wrote this.)  But I assure you guys don't watch The Notebook specifically watch The Notebook by themselves.  Oh God, why did it have to be The Notebook?   I could've been in the basement listening to Barbara Streisand on the stereo, watching Xanadu on the 72 inch tv, wearing a leather outfit made by Issac Mizrahi, reading David Sedaris and blowing two guys while Cher wore Miley Cyrus' foam finger and cheered us on and gotten less shit thrown my way.

Laugh all you want...I watched The Notebook by myself.  Whatever, no big deal.   You see that picture of a Bud Light sixer up there?  Good, because I drink a lot of those, because I am a man, and that's what men do you fucking judgmental dickhole!

I chose the one movie to watch that would remind me of the majesty of romance I mistakenly thought I once had and in its own special "Notebook" way would purposefully make me miserable.  I chose the one movie I could watch that would remind me of what I no longer have.  I could've watched anything to make me happy including porn, really intense 72 in HD porn, but I chose not to.  I chose the one movie to remind me that I, like some men I've met, have "my balls safely lodged in my girlfriends purse."  Wait?  "Ex-Girlfriends purse?"  Ahhhhh that's way fucking worse!  What has become of me?  Apparently I have become a total masochist and not in the hip "meet me on Fetlife and fuck me retarded I have issues" kind of way.    I am a grown man, correction, grown MAN, and it is silly of me to have made such choices and I should be forced to atone for my sins and remind the world that I am all about dude-like things like farting on each other, going to the Ranch Club, and fucking anything with a pulse and having no genuine remorse about it .  These are things that I like.  These are things that make me happy Goddammit!  I think...well maybe not so much...oh shit.  What's happening to me?  I am still a man am I not?  It's just a movie and I hate it!  I hate everything about it!  It was just a temporary fix to a temporary problem.  I cherish my masculinity!  Or maybe I don't?  Fuck...I'm hanging on by a thread here.  I mean I hate that movie...I think...I mean.  Fuck it let's bring it back!  Let's get angry and manly.

This is Barely Legal Magazine.  I Enjoy This Periodical.  Because I am a man who likes looking at young pretend  virginal naked 18 year old girls.  Please Let That Be Known Before You Read On.

It should also be noted that I  fucking hate Ryan Gosling.  I don't mean that an a sort of weird ironic way, I assure you I'm not that cool.  I just genuinely hate him.  I think he plays the same half ass/I'm hot but confused on what's actually happening because were eventually going to bang/I'm actually a guy who has killed another human being and I'm really confused about it because we're going to bang/I'm a total bad ass but I'm really not and I'm super  sensitive about it...you know because I'm a mostly confused character in every movie I'm in and also eventually we're going to bang.  If Steve Mcqueen were transgendered he would be Ryan Gosling. He's been described as the best actor of his generation, which is sort of like calling my sweatpants wearing World of Warcraft playing roommate the best masturbater of his generation.  You can get behind the idea but there is still not enough visual evidence to back it up.  If there is anyone out there that can genuinely convince me that Ryan Gosling is a great actor I am beyond excited to hear your argument, yet I'm also excited for you to realize what an asshole you sound like when those words come out of your mouth. I watched the film "Drive" twice just to make sure that I was right.  If you believe Ryan Gosling as a bad ass in the least in that film then you should also believe that I have never picked up a girl on Craigslist.  It's ok.  We all make mistakes.

That being said the worst part is, as pretentious as I can be when it comes to film, and as much as I hate Ryan Gosling and his sentimental shitbox movies and as quick as I can make you feel like the worlds biggest asshole for liking a movie that I don't like, I...shit...I...well...um... I...oh God no... I like The Notebook...

This Is A Picture of Philip Rivers the Greatest Quarterback in the History of the San Diego Chargers Organization.  I Know This Because I Watch Football Every Sunday.  Because That is What Masculine Men Do.  (The fact that you can't see his uniform in the picture and his eyes are dreamy is purely coincidental.)  Please Read On Carefully and Responsibly.

 It is now officially in print.  I like The Notebook.  Ok are you happy?!  I like The Notebook!  Goddamn I feel so free right now!  You might hate it and maybe you hate me for liking it because it really is a sentimental piece of drivel and yet for some reason I still cherish the concept of it.  The concept that that kind of ridiculous amount of love could actually exist between two people (trust me even I want to punch myself after writing that sentence.  Or at least drink a hundred beers watch a baseball game and make fun of a fat girl.)  But right now The Notebook makes sense.  My mind has become so confused and almost femininely delicate that I am actually willing to watch a sentimental piece of drivel and learn life lessons from it.  The problem with my roommates walking in on me watching The Notebook isn't so much that they caught me watching it, but more so based on the fact that in the middle of viewing it.  I actually paused it.  This is a film that I have seen and thought I genuinely hated for a decent amount of time and yet here I was not only viewing it, but pausing it so I could genuinely see what  happened next, even though I already fucking knew!  And I didn't care.  I was genuinely fascinated.

Shit, you know what I fucking love The Notebook! I love The Notebook because we live in a silly world filled with awful things and sometimes it's ok to be happy.  Sometimes it's ok to actually believe in the ridiculousness of true love or how one dude could stick around while his girlfriend was a total tit to him (sorry that might be more of a personal statement on my own life, but it's kind of true from a dudes perspective if you have ever actually seen said film.)  This movie is everything that life and love is supposed to be.  It never probably will be like that...but it could be.  Couldn't it?  And goddamn it, if you know you me you might think of me as a cynical piece of shit and I can find something wrong with everything you throw in front of me.  But honestly that perception is fucking tiresome.  If you think you truly know me I assure you, you probably do not.  Maybe I've changed or maybe we were never really that close.  But from now on before you say anything to me I want you to start our conversation with "Hey man good to see you and I like The Notebook too.  I believe in the majesty of true love.  I am not a cynical douche bag I am a grown man who thinks like you think.  It's ok to love and be loved because that is an amazing and vital part of human life and if your sad Aaron Kiefer or questioning what has happened to you in your life, don't worry because we can always watch The Notebook together."  Or just say "Hey I read your blog and hopefully life gets better faggot" then just give me a high five or something.

Alright to be honest I tried to put up a picture of the Liberty Bell here as a metaphor for my own masculinity being cracked, but still holding strong.  Sadly I accidentally uploaded a photo of Liberace.  Ha, Ha, you win. Does it even fucking matter any more...At this point just read on.

I'm probably silly but I still believe in romance.  I still believe in the idea that marriage can actually exist and I still believe that there can be the right person out there for everyone. I believe this because it makes sense to me.  If you disagree that's fine and chances are you are probably right.  "That shit never works out!"  That's cool.  I just like to think that sometimes, maybe it does (this coming from a guy who recently fucked a girl in the bathroom at Jim's Alibi) but if I don't believe in that then why is life worth living? It's similar to anyone who believes in God or Aliens or squirtters.  We all have to believe because if we don't then what is life?  The vital part of any existence is following through with what we what we genuinely believe in.  And as ridiculous and confusing as life is, right now I believe in The Notebook.  I have spent my entire life rolling strange, treating girls like shit and cheating any chance I got.  (If your reading this I am not referencing you Ex Girlfriend.)  I have made all the wrong choices any chance I got.  I'm not sure that I want to do that anymore.  And while this break up situation is shitty and depressing  so be it.  I had love and that means that it is not impossible that it could happen again.  And if I need to watch The Notebook to remind myself of what I once had or what I actually want, and maybe for the first time in a long time I am kind of proud of myself for doing so.  A dear friend of mine once told me that it is ok to watch The Notebook up until the point where Sam Shepard dies, because after that any masculinity and honesty is immediately sucked out of the film.  I used to agree but now I don't care.  Because I feel no shame in how I feel.  To be honest there is part of me that after typing all this kind of feels like puking, punching or taking a nickel plated pistol and shooting my balls off, but maybe that is ok.  Maybe life is change and I am still finding out what it truly means to be a man. Maybe I don't have to be a dick head to meet women, I can just be me.  And if this break up for some reason turned me from jaded asshole...

Charles Bukowski (I am way better looking than this guy)

Into sensitive pussy...

Ryan Gosling (I am way better...at something than this guy.  Hopefully I can figure that out soon.  Douche bag.)

Then I guess I have to find a way to deal with that. 
This will be the first and last time I ever say this (and God it pains me so) but thanks Ryan Gosling.
To Be Continued...
The Next Blog the Majesty of Dating in Boise, Idaho.

7 Ways to Get Over a Break Up and How I've Found A Way to Ruin All of Them...

Authors Note-For what it's worth this is satire.  While I have recently gone through a very difficult break up, let it be noted that all of this is meant as humor and not as slander.  My ex girlfriend is a an amazing human being and I imagine all of this is hard for her as well (I would hope anyway.)

  Last night bored out of my mind and with the inability to sleep I got on the old Interwebs and Googled the term How to Get Over a Break Up.  Maybe I was bored or maybe things really are that bad.  Either way there are only so many times you can Google your own name.  (FYI there is a pedophile in Georgia named Aaron Kiefer...so I guess things could be worse.)  My girlfriend left me about two weeks ago and times have been a little tough.  So I figured why not be proactive.  I already knew the night would end with me on You Porn anyway so why not use the internet to please myself in a different way?  Not necessarily surprisingly I'm not the first asshole to Google this.  The first thing that came up was Cosmo's top 10 ways to get over a break up.  I didn't open this one strictly because I only read Cosmo for the quizzes.  Turns out I'm much more of a Kim then a Khloe!  Who knew?!

  After scrolling down the list on the old Google Box I found the Top 7 Ways to Get Over a Break Up by Mens Health Magazine.  Now I am not a fan of men or health, but this one had a picture of a really masculine guy who looked like he would never go through any of the thoughts or feelings that I was having right now and somehow I respected that.  God he's handsome!  (Maybe strike that part earlier about not liking men...although still fuck you health!  One life changing realization at a time.)  Let's call him Gary.  The list was fascinating.  Some of it seemed like total horseshit and yet some of it made sense.  I wish maybe I had taken the time to look at this list two weeks ago because everything on this list I fucked up.  There has not been one thing that I have done right through this entire process.  Thus for future reference I shall provide the list and explain what I did right and what I did wrong for every future sad bastard that happens to stumble upon these same problems.   

1.) Think through everything thoroughly, but not obsessively
  Well this makes perfect sense.  I often forget that I control everything that I think.  My mind never drifts.  When I wake up in the morning my mind goes to a perfectly logical spot.  Same as right before I go to bed.  All I have to do is find a way to control where my mind goes and I will be just fine.  When I look back on my relationship I will think everything through, but will not obsess and if I start to obsess I will think of something different.  We had a good run but life goes on...Every dark cloud has a silver lining...I really like this new Kanye album...why would she leave me so abruptly?  I can't stop thinking about this...No, not gonna do it, you're right Gary.  Change the mindset...no obsessive thinking.  I'm thinking of puppies and Mozart right now Gary.  It's beautiful...Puppies in a field with Mozart playing, it's glorious...I wonder if my ex girlfriend is fucking someone else?  Was she fucking someone else when we were together...  No, no, no!!  Puppies and Mozart...Puppies and Mozart...I bet she was, that fucking...Sorry Gary...Puppies and Mozart from here on out...You know I've never really liked puppies, you know who did love puppies Gary was my...shit.

2.)  Out with the old in with the new
  Gary are you telling me I need to clean my room?  Well fair enough my friend.  Consider it done.  And in all actuality it was very cleansing.  It needed a deep clean.  I like this suggestion.  It feels nice to sleep in a room that is truly mine again.  I found a couple of shirts that I really like that were hidden under the bed.  I forgot how much I missed those shirts.  I'm excited to wear them again...you know what else I found Gary?  About 10 pairs of my girlfriends panties.  That's right.  Apparently when you date someone for three years they have a tendency to leave things over.  So now I imagine I have an ex girlfriend who is walking around wearing no panties, which would be really hot if we were still dating, but sadly were not Gary.  Maybe read the paragraph above you, you fucking dick.  So now I'm stuck with 10 pairs of panties and either a trash can that's about to get really aroused or a really odd text message in my future.  I'm starting to obsess again Gary...

3.)  Meet new people
  Oh Gary, you beautiful bastard!  You finally got one in my wheel house.  Meet new people?  Done and done!  I notice though Gary you didn't say meet new people you actually like.  Or meet new people that could have a future meaning in your life.  You didn't say that Gary so I've been taking this one sort of at face value.  And believe you me Gary have I met some new people.  They should put a plague of my face in the ladies room at the Ranch Club that says "Adequate Lover, But Exceptional At Meeting New People."  Gary I don't know if your catching the metaphor here but I have "met" a lot of new people in the last two weeks.  Every Tom, Dick and Harry, do they have a female equivalent for that phrase?  Let's just say every Sarah, Ashley and Sarah, (why is 1 out of every 4 girls named Sarah/Sara these days?)  I do well in that department Gary...and yet it's still not the equivalent.  Three years and what seemed like real love is hard to find a substitute for.  Sure it gets my mind off of things but only temporarily. Meeting new people is nice and yet it seems unfair to hold these girls up against what I once had.  Well that and the fact that they're whores...


4.) Turn the negative into a positive
  Yeah, ok, I get it.  Take what is happening that is bad and find a way to make it good.  Sort of like what if you feel like your  getting butt fucked...but you're getting butt fucked by Peter Pan?  Alright Gary you roided out sack of shit I'll give it a shot.
-We had a lot of fun together for three years...not that many people who can say that.
-Better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all.
-Maybe I can still return that engagement ring.  I kept the receipt and that could at least be beer money!  (Not that much beer money.  I was hoping it would be more the gesture than the ring.  I wonder why I'm single now?  See you soon Vista Pawn!)
-I still smoke.  Good for me for not quitting.  Maybe this is something I will see all the way through.
-I still have the password to her Netflix account.
-Maybe my sadness makes her cum?
-I have a blog now.
-My ability to drink copious amounts of beer after these last two weeks has taken a turn towards the impressive.  Perhaps Bud Light would be interested in sponsoring this blog.  (Actually the fine people over at Camel might be interested as well.)
- At least were friends now Gary...a new friend is always a positive.

5.) Meet new people, but in a different way
   Gary you goddamned genius.  I will never question your beautiful abs again.  I have recently dipped into the internet dating pool.  (And sadly I don't mean that as a really substandard metaphor.)  
Step One-Post ad on Craigsilist.  Anything to take my mind off everything that is going on.  Remember thoroughly, not obsessively Gary, I'm doing all I can.
Step Two-Receive messages from girls on Craigslist.
Step Three-Realize that I wouldn't even fuck these women with Gary's dick.
Step Four-Realize that your 33 and posting on Craigslist for the first time since you were 27,probably shouldn't be that surprised that your getting messages from lonely 40 year old women who think your cute and funny.
Step Five-Feel awful that you don't email these women back.  Realizing that you just got dumped and maybe they have been through the same process.  Probably more than once.
Step Six-Jerk off.  (This isn't really a vital part of the process.  I just felt like it.  Lay off, I'm only human.)
Step Seven-Move past your own bullshit and feel bad for humanity.
Step Eight-Realize Craigslist is not good for your psyche or anyone involved.
Step Nine-Go buy a sixer.

  Craigslist is silly Gary!  You should have warned me...though I knew I going in.  Still a little heads up would have been nice.  It's fine though.  No worries pal.  Plenty of fish in the sea.  Wait isn't that an internet dating website?  It sure is and it's completely free!  Oh Gary this is perfect.  I set up my nice little headline, complete my about me section, (it's funny...chicks will tottally dig this.), put up a couple of photos, (I hope the ladies like the beard), and I am locked and loaded.  Navigate the site a little bit.  Oh look at that they actually set up your matches based on shared interest.  Let's check out my matches.  This will be fun Gary...gonna find my future wife!
  Match 1-Alright, not really my type.  Looks aren't everything, but this is internet dating for Godsakes, gotta kind of aim for the fences.
  Match 2-Better on the eyes...alright, not bad.  Loves Country music?  Well everyone has some faults.  Loves to dirt bike? Not really my scene...but...Loves hunting and fishing?  Jesus, this lady is pretty much the exact opposite of me.  We have nothing in common and I don't even want to bone her.  This Plenty of Fish seems a little more like Plenty of Whales Gary.
  Match 3-I mean they give you like 20 matches so maybe they can't all be winners.  I'm sure there is someone on this sight for me.  Let's give lucky number 3 a shot!  Oh would you look at that.  Gary?  Gary?  Are you still with me buddy?  You should be because Match 3 also happens to be...oh I don't know...my ex fucking girlfriend!  Are you shitting me Gary?!  Oh look she's online right now...perfect.  She's already finding a replacement me!  She's already using the internet to find a better me!  She's probably talking to you right now Gary, you ab bearing tit!  This was the worst fucking idea you've ever had...puppy dogs...Mozart...puppy dogs...fuck that!  Check her Facebook page...Check her Facebook page...oh look she's friends now with two other dudes!  These aren't dudes I've ever met Gary...do you know them?  Do ya?  Do you guys hang out on weekends and ball my ex girlfriend while making fun of that loser ex boyfriend of hers?  How does she look?  Does she ever ask about me or give a sort of half hearted effort when your making out with her.  Shit.

6.  Do not get drunk and dial.
  Ha!  To late pal.  I'm typing this with one hand right now and I've been drunk since I started.  Pick up the phone...pick up the phone.  Why the fuck is she not...yeah I will leave a message..."Hey. So I saw you on the Plenty of Fish website.  Cause I'm on there now and well...that's cool and all.  I mean I know you said you didn't want to see anybody else and now you're on a dating web...it's not important.  I am doing really well.  Just calling to say hey.  See how you're doing.  I know it's late but I'm not drinking or anything.  For reals.  I've been reading The Bell Jar...again.  I think you might really like it. It's...are you seeing someone else?  Sorry.  Stupid question.  I just think that...yeah.  I love you and...yeah.  Enjoy your freedom, I'm doing fine.  Honestly."  Sorry Gary.  My mistake.  You were on to something with this one.  I mean maybe when she hears the message she will...shit.

7.  Remove memory triggers.
  Well Gary looks like we are having an old fashioned panty burn tonight.  And probably never listening to the radio again.  This will be my first panty burn.  Probably not yours though huh Gary.  You fucking weirdo.

  Well Gary thanks for the advice.  It means a lot to me and I'm glad we could develop a new friendship throughout this process also...oh sorry I was checking her Facebook page again.  Right don't do that...also I apologize for maybe not taking as much of your advice as I should have...why the fuck is she still online on that website...right sorry...not healthy.  You know Gary I think I am going to be ok.  It might take a while, I loved her a lot, but I have been through worse as a human being...I think.  What can I say Gary?  I believe in love and I'm sure there is someone out there for me plus...oh hold on I'm getting a text...no it's not from her.  It's a picture message from a lady that I met at the Ranch Club...she's wearing nipple clips...who buys nipple clips?  I kind of want to find out.  Well Gary, I think we should call it a night...of course I'll give you the details tomorrow.  I'm trying my best to change Gary, but you know what pal...Rome wasn't built in a day.  I'll be fine...I promise I'll find a way and if not life goes on.  Gary I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.